


that good girl faith (and a tight little skirt)

by ariadne_odair



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (no surprise there), Bondage, Exhibitionism, F/F, Fingering, Girl Direction, Oral Sex, Shower Sex, Ziam is cute, and ends with shower sex, and excels at arts and crafts, cue prank war, harry and louis get drunk and make out, harry wants to teach them yoga, it's hate at first sight, it's start with louis pushing harry in the lake, louis is essentially peter pan to a bunch of children, summer camp fic, who let them be in charge of small children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-09
Packaged: 2018-04-03 15:40:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 43,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4106197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariadne_odair/pseuds/ariadne_odair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>“What the fuck did you do to my shampoo?” Harry shouts, brandishing the offending bottle like it’s a vial of poison. “Is this fucking mud? Did you honestly replace my shampoo with mud?”</i><br/><br/><i>“Not just your shampoo,” Louis says calmly, then cracks up when Harry visibly pales. </i> <br/> <br/> </p><p>Harry and Louis are camp counsellors. They hate each other. The amount of sex they have in the camp showers probably contradicts that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovefern](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovefern/gifts).



> Okay, so firstly lovefern I am so sorry. I am so sorry, because the minimum word count for the prompts was 3k..and this is 40k over. Oops.
> 
> But you essentially gave me the queen of prompts - girl direction and hate sex. Which is all I seem to write and all I've wrote for my past three girl direction fics. But somehow I still went overboard and gifted you with this mammoth fic, so I hope you still like that :D thanks 
> 
> Also, you wrote an awesome larry high school au, which was amazing, so I felt I had a lot to live up to?
> 
> AN: I got this prompt before shit went down in fandom, so Zayn is in this fic.
> 
> Thank yous in the end notes xxx

Louis sees Zayn the second she steps foot on camp, and immediately tackles her to the ground.

Zayn squeals so loudly Louis’ eardrums vibrate, but she just cackles, grabbing Zayn by the waist and rolling them over and over. Her new shorts are covered in dust, dirty streaks up and down her arms, but it’s worth it.

She buries her face in Zayn’s hair, wrapping her skinny arms around Zayn’s necks. Zayn smells smoky but sweet, and her skin is warm against Louis’, heat bleeding through her thin shirt.

“Zaynie, I can’t believe you left me,” Louis scowls, ruffling Zayn’s hair just to piss her off. Zayn grabs Louis’ hands, curling her fingers around them like handcuffs. “I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Shut up,” Zayn answers, Bradford accent thick and blurring the vowels, and soothing all of Louis’ jangled nerves. “I saw you last week.”

“I pined,” Louis announces dramatically, and Zayn grins, tucking her smile into Louis’ neck.

Louis has already decided this year’s camp is going to be the best one ever. It helps that Camp Swallow looks like it came straight from a holiday brochure. There’s a lake, shining blue and crystalline, where the kids can kayak and take swims. Towering viridescent pine trees, with rough bark, sand trails like tiny mazes leading to all the cabins. The cabins themselves are cute; rustic yes, but the bunks have soft blankets, and the water is hot.

Louis’ big enough to say she loves it. She’s been working here each summer since she was 16, desperate to get a new pair of Toms and buy her sisters a decent birthday present. She adores kids anyway, so being the Peter Pan to twelve little lost boys and girls is a dream come true.

The pay is decent, and god knows Louis needs it. She’s off to Leeds uni in September; she’s only just paid off the room deposit, and her loan barely covers her rent. Unless she wants to eat her roommates, she needs to earn some serious cash. And cannibalism probably isn’t the best way to make new friends.

She’d met Zayn on her second year; some kid had been giving her shit for being Muslim. Louis had pushed him in the lake and Zayn had sneaked her last bowl into their cabin. Zayn lives in Bradford, so they get to see each other less than Louis would like, but she is also going to Leeds, so Louis can’t wait.

“Come on, let’s go grab a decent cabin,” Zayn grins, slinging her bag over her shoulder. She looks insanely pretty, aviators perched on her nose, skin glowing and gorgeous. One side of her head is shaved, and her tiny shorts show off her long legs. “Li told me that they’re getting two new recruits this year. Going to have eight groups instead of six.”

“Oh, Li did, did she?” Louis teases, grabbing her own bag. She cut her in hair in preparation for the summer - it was just dead weight and it pissed her off. It’s shorter now, just hitting the top of her shoulders and the colour of honey from days playing footie. “How is your darling Payne?”

Zayn flushes, pink dancing over her cheeks. She shoves Louis gently, bumping their hips together. “She’s fine.” Zayn blinks long lashes, raising her chin. “Probably still reeling from the amazing head I gave her.”

Louis considers screeching, but she and Zayn used to mess around and she can confirm Zayn gives great head. Instead she offers her a fist bump. “Fair enough. She going to Leeds, too?”

Zayn beams, whole face lighting up as if the sun has come out. “Yes! We both agreed we weren’t going to influence each other’s choices, yeah? So we applied, kept it secret and didn’t tell each which ones, and then we picked, and I _hoped_.”

Zayn trails off, and Louis feels a surge affection rush through her. She can remember a lot of night time conversations, Zayn murmuring down the phone, all her worries and fears lost through a phone line. Liam had been completely insistent on not influencing Zayn’s choices, her streak of nobility shining through.

“So I got into all of mine,” Zayn sighs, “and Leeds had a great programme. And it’s only have an hour away, and you know I get homesick. I got into Brighton, but that’s almost three hours away, I’d miss the family too much, yeah?”

Louis nods. “Yeah, I know. No point being unhappy, bro.”

“Exactly,” Zayn says softly, shooting Louis a grateful glance. “And Li got an unconditional for the sports course at Leeds, which takes a weight off.”

“And it all worked out,” Louis sings happily, kicking a rock on the path and scuffing her shoes. “You’re like a modern day fairy-tale.”

“Shut up,” Zayn mumbles, but she’s still glowing. “It’s going to be sick, all of us going together.”

They grab one of the cabins furthest from the lake, but not too close to the ones for the kids. Camp Swallow has kids from 7 to 12, but it’s enclosed by the park gates, so the leaders don’t have to sleep in the same bunks. They have to take night shifts anyway - a couple of them will keep watch to make sure no one makes an impromptu dash for it.

“Bagsy top bunk,” Louis shouts, throwing her bags on them. The cabin is roomy, airy. It has a little bathroom with cute pink towels and curtains, and the bunks have matching bedspreads. It’s not the Ritz but Louis has shared with numerous blond children over the years; she’ll live.

“Mate, I don’t care where you sleep.” Zayn gives the cabin a once over, shrugging her delicate shoulders. She’s in a loose white top, lace bandeau showing through the sides. “Just that I get to sleep. I fully expect you to be my alarm clock this year.”

“It’s weird with none of the kids here,” Louis murmurs, lying back on the bed. She crosses her hands behind her head, tracing the cracks on the ceiling. “So quiet.”

“And tomorrow we will be overrun,” Zayn smirks, nudging her to the side. She wriggles next to Louis, curling up in a ball and resting her hand on Louis’ stomach. Louis strokes her silky hair, running her fingers over the buzzed parts. “Like the new hair, Z.”

“Liam said I look like a Pakistani Natalie Dormer,” Zayn smirks, fondness blending her tone. Louis closes her eyes, dragging her nails over Zayn’s scalp.

“Reason 127 we need to work on Liam thinking before she starts talking. When did Natalie Dormer shave her head?”

“Uh huh. And in the new Hunger Games movie.”

“Oh yeah.” Louis flicks her eyes open, gently pushing Zayn off her stomach. “Come on, you have a girlfriend to terrify, and I have a presentation to sleep through.”

The camp runs for six weeks but the staff arrive the night before. They get given their group lists for the summer, and have a boring presentation of no running near the lake, blah blah blah. Louis mainly sleeps through it and then makes the rest of it up.

It’s nice strolling down to the main hall. The sunlight dapples through the tree leaves, and they spot some of the other regulars. Jesy, gorgeous, scary, has stunning hair which makes Louis think she smuggles in Pantene.

Jade is there too, also gorgeous, also scary. She’s like, four foot, but Louis’ seen her terrify Devil Child Nelson. So called because he was the worst kid at camp last year, and shoved mud down Louis’ shorts when they went on a nature walk. Louis doesn’t know what Jade said, but the next day Nelson apologised and made her a hand drawn card, so.

“Hey, Jade,” Louis beams, swinging an easy arm around her shoulders. Jade is sweet and bubbly, her hair piled on her head and tied with a pink bow. “Looking forward to another year of my team kicking your arse?”

“You wish, Tommo,” Jade giggles, batting her lashes, nudging under Louis’ arm. “My team is going to thrash you.”

“You tell yourself that,” Louis grins as they round the corner. There’s a big main hall where they have all their meals, kitchen attached to the back. They always have the day back presentation there, and Louis spies Ashton wandering over as they flop down in the bright green chairs.

“Loueh,” Ashton greets, slapping her a high five. His hair is almost entirely blond, and he’s wearing a shirt with cut off sleeves, most likely because of the heat. Louis is extremely glad of her own tiny shorts and vest.

“Ashton,” Louis smirks, and they arm wrestle for a bit, before Ashton wipes his sweaty face on her shirt. “Ew, get off my tits!”

“They are very nice tits,” Ashton says solemnly, sprawling in the chair next to her. He does a mock salute. “That is true.”

“Where’s your little quartet?” Louis asks, peering around. “Michael not here yet? Or Luke?”

“Their car broke down,” Ashton shrugs, rolling his eyes. “I told him it’s a piece of junk, he should just scrap it. Calum is talking to the new girls over there, though. They like the same shitty indie music, I think.”

Louis is about to glance over, catches sight of some glossy curls and a bottle blond, but then Liam walks in. Her hair has grown long again, and it’s down, wavy around her shoulders. She has a red snapback shoved on her head, and Louis snorts. She’s certain Liam likes to pretend she’s in a frat.

“Hey, babe,” Liam coos, eyes crinkling as they land on Zayn. Louis has to admit they’re adorable; Zayn is practically vibrating with happiness. Zayn slides a hand into Liam’s hair, Liam’s hand gripping the back of her shirt, and Louis looks away, allowing them this slice of privacy.

“That’s hot,” Ashton mutters, then howls when Louis hits him the balls. “What! I promise I still respect her as a person.”

“Ashton, shut the fuck up,” Jesy says, not even looking up from her phone. Ashton scowls, flicking some paper at her, and Louis turns to Liam.

“Hey, Payno.” Zayn is now sitting on Liam’s lap, Liam’s arms looped around her waist. She looks happy, relaxed, and a pang of longing resonates in Louis’ heart. “I see where your priorities are.”

“Shut up, Lou,” Liam answers easily, punching her in the shoulder. “Like you didn’t ditch me five times on night shift last year, just to sneak off and bang Leigh Anne.”

Louis refuses to blush. “And who returned the favour when Zayn showed her pretty face?”

“Shut up, Louis,” Liam and Zayn drone at the same time, then look at each other in glee and high five.

“Ew, couples,” Louis moans, leaning back in her chair so the front legs lift up. Liam always reprimands her for it, scared she’s going to fall back and crack her head open.

The hall is beginning to fill up now. Michael and Luke have finally arrived, whooping when they see Ashton like a pack of howler monkeys. Leigh slide in next to Jesy, giving Louis a once over that makes heat flash in her stomach.

Simon, the camp director, is also there. He’s chatting to Bressie, the watersports instructor, and Lou, who organises the arts and crafts. Lou eyes up the big cardboard box by Bressie’s feet - no doubt full of staff t-shirts. They have Camp Swallow printed across the front and always smell like starch.

Josh and Sandy are chatting at another table, along with Ed and Taylor. Ed’s shock of red hair is close to Taylor’s platinum blond, giggling away. Louis’ never sure if they’re friends or a couple; either way they’re a cute pair.

Taylor is a competitor for the team challenge though, Louis thinks, narrowing her eyes, then snaps her head up when Simon claps his hands.

“Welcome back, everybody,” Simon starts, running a hand through his greying hair. Louis’ tiny group of terrors probably caused that with the 2k14 macaroni incident. “It’s nice to see you all. Now, most of the itinerary is the same as the previous years.”

“Eight of you are going to be assigned to a different group. Groups will consist of up to 10 children, and children are aged between 6 and 12. We’ve got instructors for different activities, and each week we’re going to rotate groups to a different activity. Group 1 and 2 will do art, then sport, then cooking, ect.”

Louis nods, winking at Bressie when he catches her eye. They do this each year, arts and crafts week, sports week, nature week, cooking. It means the kids get to take part in loads of different things.

“Those of you aren’t group leaders will help with general supervision and organisation,” Simon continues. “We’re going to have a rotation sheet for night shifts. It’ll only be a few hours long each; this is less about security and more about stopping the children from going to bed too late. It’s also to give the day leaders a break. Each cabin will be watched by two leaders, and then they’ll swap with another two after a few hours. There’s enough of us that you’ll have to supervise two nights a week.”

There’s more information about health and safety, regulations etc., but Louis zones out. She’s done all her training, has every certificate possibly, so this is just reiterating that.

“Lou, come on,” Ashton says, half an hour later. He looks equally bored, eyes glazed over. “The kitchen has made us spaghetti dinner, we’re all going up.”

“The best thing about this camp is the food,” Louis sighs dreamily, elbowing Ashton when he laughs. “Seriously, I can’t cook for shit, this is like heaven.”

Ashton hands her a plate, laughing again when Louis moans in anticipation. “You’re such a dork.”

Louis just shakes her head, thanking Maggie profusely when she gives her some extra meatballs. All the cooking staff adore her, mainly because Louis isn’t completely scum and thanks them for making all the gorgeous meals. And makes all her kids do the same.

“Who’s the new girls, Liam?” Ashton asks, sitting at their usual table. Liam and Zayn are holding hands and eating with the other one, so Louis pokes Liam just to see her drop her fork.

“Niall and Harry,” Liam replies, wiping her tomato covered fork with a napkin. “Why did you do that, now I have sauce on my hands.”

Louis stabs an entire meatball and shoves it in her mouth. “Shut up, Liam. I thought you said we were getting two new girls?”

“They are girls, Niall is an Irish name,” Liam explains, scrunching up her eyebrows. “They’re over there, we should call them over.”

“Why?” Louis asks, frowning as she stabs another meatball. She likes their little friendship group as it is, has worked hard to pull them all together. “Do we have to?”

“Don’t be a prick, Lou.” Zayn reaches for the salt, offering it to Louis before putting it back. “They’re like lost puppies, look.”

“Don’t - “ Louis begins, but Liam is already waving them over. Great.

“Alright, lads,” the bottle blond says, grinning as she smacks her tray down opposite Liam. Louis blinks; nobody should be that cheerful. “Haz is just coming, got the coordination of a drunk lemur that one.”

Louis is still processing that mental image, when a low voice drifts over, rich and smooth like hot coffee. “Heyy. Stop badmouthing me, Niall.”

Louis looks up and - wow. Right. That definitely shouldn’t be allowed.

New girl Point 2 is unbelievably attractive. Her hair falls in glossy, brunette curls, cascading down her back and over her shoulders. She has big, expressive jade eyes, long dark lashes ashy against her pale skin. Her lips are candyfloss pink, a perfect cupid’s bow, and Louis’ eyes drop to them automatically.

“It’s not bad mouthing if it’s true,” blondie says, with a thick Irish accent, so she must be Niall.

So the girl I want to pin to a wall and lick all over is Harry, Louis’ brain concedes, and then she blacks out for a bit thinking about that.

“Right, Tommo?” Liam asks, and Louis jolts out of thoughts of biting Harry’s collarbones.Her plaid shirt is underdone by about fifty buttons, and Louis swears she can see black ink tinting the pale skin.

“What?” Louis asks dumbly, blinking at Liam. “What did you say?”

“We were talking about the team challenges,” Liam replies, and this, this is good. Louis’ team always slay the team challenges. Liam turns to Niall and Harry. “Every week we have a group challenge, and the team that wins gets a prize. At the end of the six weeks there is one, final, all out fight. Winner gets to go to Alton Towers and stuff.”

“And my team always wins,” Louis cuts in, smirking. It’s true; Liam has accused her of brainwashing the children in her care. Louis calls is rigorous training and a successive mentality. “I have literally thrashed the other teams each year. And I mean literally, Josh attacked Lisa with a stick last year.”

“Your kids cheat,” Leigh Anne puts in, lips quirking up at Louis’ enraged gasp. “You let them play dirty.”

It’s a decent innuendo, and Louis locks eyes with Leigh Anne, smirking. A familiar heat begins to build in Louis’ stomach, and she’s about to say something seductive, not sure what, when another voice cuts in.

“Well, maybe you’ll have to settle for second place this year.”

Louis’ head whips round, raising one eyebrow at Harry. “Excuse me?”

Harry purses her lips, dragging her long fingers through her curls. “I mean maybe you won’t win.”

Deathly silence falls over the table. You could hear a pin drop. Ashton chokes on his meatball.

Louis slowly puts her fork down. “What would you know? You’re new, you haven’t got your group yet.”

“I believe in my kids,” Harry says earnestly, and Louis can feel her hackles rising. Louis believes in her kids, too, she believes they can kick arse and win the team challenge. ”I mean, I don’t know them yet! But studies show a bit of competition is good, it increases drive and social - “

“Don’t give me that crap,” Louis snaps, “you haven’t seen what I’m capable of.”

“It’s not crap,” Harry pouts, frowning. “It’s important to encourage your children - “  
  
Louis rolls her eyes. “What? You going to teach them the downward dog every morning?”

Harry blinks long lashes. “Um, yeah. We’re incorporating yoga into the sports week.”

“Hang on, I organise all the activities for sports week,” Louis scowls, turning to Liam. “Simon asked me to do football drills and stuff.”

Liam holds up her hands, glancing nervously between Louis and Harry. “Um, I think they might have both?”

“I’m not having a bunch of hippies taking over my pitch,” Louis snarls, glaring at Harry. A flush is starting to bloom on Harry’s cheeks, but she meets Louis’ eyes determinedly.

“There’s not even a pitch, it’s more of a field. And we can share it.”

They’re not fucking sharing it, organising sports week is one of Louis’ favourite parts of camp. It’s what she loves doing, she’s good at it. It’s what she’s always done, this new girl isn’t just going to come and take it. “No thanks, mate, I don’t share with hippies.”

Harry looks proper riled up now, eyes flashing, and a tiny vindictive part of Louis thinks good. “Why are you acting like a spoilt baby? It’s just yoga, just because you think you’re the best at everything, doesn’t mean you get to shoot down everyone else’s ideas.”

Louis feels like there’s a thousands splinters below her skin, everyone pushing further and further under whenever Harry opens her mouth. “And just because you think of some new age crap, doesn’t mean you can here and take over. This is your first year!”

“Why should - “ Harry snaps, face screwed up in anger, but Niall grabs her arm. Zayn grabs Louis’, fingers curling around her forearm.

“Just leave it, bro,” Zayn mutters, pulling her back. “It doesn’t matter, okay?”

Louis clenches her fists, hard enough her nails spike her palm. She glances down, anger still burning in her chest and choking her throat. Everyone else has gone silent, the tension palpable. Louis inhales deeply once, then again.

“I hate confrontation,” Harry mumbles.

Louis _explodes_.

“You started it!” Louis yells, and lobs the nearest thing in her hand at Harry. Which happens to be a knife. Oops.

Harry’s eyes go wide and she doesn’t duck, the twat, just kinda lurches to the side and topples off her chair. Louis is so shocked she laughs, which only results in the death glare from Liam.

“You can’t throw knives, Louis!” Liam looks about three seconds from a heart attack, even with Zayn rubbing her arms comfortingly. “What if you had hit her!”

“I probably wouldn’t cry about it,” Louis mutters. Niall is now helping Harry up, despite being half Harry’s height and weight. Harry look venomous when she finally stumbles to her feet.

“You’re such a dick, you could have hurt me - “

“Okay,” Niall says loudly, stepping between like they’re two fighters at a boxing match. “You two need to stop, because Simon is looking over here. And unless we all want to lose our jobs, we’re going to pretend everything is the craic, okay?”

“Let’s just chill,” Liam suggests, gently pulling Louis away. “It’s late, we could all get some rest before tomorrow, okay?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Niall agrees, and her and Liam share a look. Louis manages to throw Harry the middle finger before she leaves.

**  
**

**-**

“Who does she think she is? I’ve been here three years, I am a veteran. A veteran of paint fights and pranks wars, and that time my bra snapped and all the twelve year boys hounded me!”

Zayn raises her head from her book, one finger lingering on the page. “Which bra?”

Louis scowls. “The red one from La Senza.”

Zayn pales. “The pulling bra.”

Louis nods mournfully. “The pulling bra.”

Zayn hesitates. “Remind me why you were wearing that around twelve year olds?”

“Because I was trying to pull Leigh Anne,” Louis whines, yanking her hair brush through the snarls in her hair. “Which I did. The fact my boobs were free might have contributed actually, so maybe it was a good thing in the end.”

“Leigh Anne is hot,” Zayn mumbles, “not as hot as Liam. But still hot.”

“Yeah,” Louis sighs, thinking wistfully about Leigh Anne’s thighs for a second, before refocusing. “Anyway, that’s not what we’re talking about! We need to devise a plan to kill Harry Styles.”

“We could dump the body in the lake.”

“Exactly,” Louis agrees, and Zayn fistbumps her. “But seriously, what the fuck was that? She’s been here for all of five minutes, and she’s already trying to barge her way in. And her stupid hair, that’s a hazard. That is like, six hazards in one. I’m going to get her fired.”

“Uh huh. Tell Simon.”

“Damn right I’m going to tell Simon,” Louis sniffs, slamming her hairbrush down on the dresser. She slips on her pajamas shorts and old shirt, so big it swallows her thighs. “Also I am going to kick her arse at team challenge tomorrow.”

“Do it,” Zayn agrees, and Louis will take the support, even if she knows Zayn hasn’t been listening to a word she’s said. “I’m going to turn off the light, okay?”

Louis jumps up onto the top bunk, wolf whistling when Zayn shrugs off her dressing gown. “Nice, Malik, who got you those?”

“Liam,” Zayn smirks, wiggling her butt in her lacey pink shorts. She’s got a lacey pink vest to match, and it makes her skin glow. “Well, it’s for Liam. I’m going to surprise her.”

“I’m sure she’ll be pleasantly surprised,” Louis laughs, waggling her eyebrows, and Zayn bites her lip.

“Actually, Lou - “

“You want an extra pillow?” Louis asks, reaching around behind her. Zayn frowns, but grabs the pillow Louis throws her. “Night bro.”

“Night,” Zayn calls, and Louis snuggles down, pressing her face into the pillow.

She keeps running over the argument in her mind, the memory playing over and over like a DVD loop screen. She’s never got so angry so quickly, never sparked up like a match before. Louis presses her tongue to her cheek, frowning. Either way one thing’s for sure.

Tomorrow she is going to destroy Harry Styles.

**  
**

-

“Liam, please take you comatose girlfriend,” Louis orders, shoving Zayn towards her.

Liam catches her - of course, damn disney couple - only looking slightly concerned. Zayn had been determined to become one with the bed, holding on for dear life. Even Louis’ special waking up song hadn’t worked.

“You have to wake her up gently,” Liam rebukes, one arm sliding around Zayn’s waist. “You have to be kind.”

“That’s a fair comment, Liam, but next time I’d rather you’d just fuck off,” Louis snaps, scowling at the soppy pair. “Where’s Ashton? Or Jade? Or anyone who doesn’t have a better half?”

“I don’t,” Taylor announces, walking briskly up to them. “I feel I’m in a place where I can work on me, you know? I don’t need someone to complete me, I’m already complete.”

“That’s beautiful,” Louis sighs, “let’s go get some bacon.”

Taylor smirks, lipstick a ruby red slash against her mouth. Her shiny hair is pulled up in a perfect ponytail, and Louis is once again envious of her style. Taylor is intense, but Louis admires her for it.

“So, I heard you blew up at the new girl last night,” Taylor comments cooly, using the silver tongs to scoop some grapefruit onto her plate. Personally, Louis is going for a full blown English.

“Surprised you managed to peel yourself away from Ed to hear it,” Louis banters back, grinning at Taylor’s eye roll. It’s like this between them, biting words and teasing jabs, but there’s real affection underneath it all.

“Do you like her?” Taylor presses, and Louis can’t help the laughter bursting from her lips.

“We’ve been here barely a day, Taylor. There’s no love stories yet.”

Taylor just laughs, dancing away on light feet. “No yet, Tomlinson, not yet.”

Louis snorts, beaming when she gets to the cooked breakfast section. She needs like, fifty hash browns.

The canteen is filling up quickly, the chink of cutlery and yawns being pressed into the rim of coffee cups. It’s nice, homely, and Louis surveys her little empire over her fried bacon, before trotting over to her usual table.

“Ew, get that away from me,” Zayn groans, grimacing at Louis’ plate. Zayn would live on a caffeine drip if she could. She looks adorable, hunched up in a big gray hoodie of Liam’s, smudged eyeliner under her lids.

“Zayn, this is what real women eat,” Louis cackles, waving her sausage under Zayn’s nose. “This is a sausage that will take over the world.”

“Someone’s cheery,” Ashton grins, teeth white against his tanned skin. “Give us a mushroom, Tommo.”

Louis is so busy fighting for her fungus she misses Harry and Niall joining them. It’s only when she’s safely secured her toadstool that she looks up, scowling when she meets cool green eyes.

Harry has a tiny bowl of rainbow fruit, orange and pink and green, and a glass of what look likes blended cabbage. Louis raises one eyebrow. “What the fuck is that?”

Harry frowns. She looks like a frog. “This is guava, that’s pomegranate, there’s some pineapple, and here’s some mango.”

She spears some on her fork, waving it obnoxiously. “Fruit, Lewis, say it with me. _Fruit_.”

“Shut up,” Louis snaps, batting the fork away. “It’s Louis, not Lewis. And that’s a baby’s breakfast, I didn’t realise you were the representative for Slimming World.”

“There’s nothing wrong with looking after yourself,” Harry says through gritted teeth, gesturing to Louis’ plate. “Just because you're eating the food equivalent of a clogged artery.”

“And what is _that_?” Louis continues, ignoring Harry’s reply. “That looks like blended baby sick.”

“It’s kale,” Harry snarls, slamming her hand on the table. Her glossy curls are held back by a lilac headband, but the movement sends a single curl tumbling free.

“Why do we even have kale?” Louis says in disgust. She is never going to touch that drink in her life. It looks like snot. “None of the kids are going to eat that.”

Harry flushes so fast it makes her heart race, a sudden flood of rose pink to her cheeks. “I - I brought some. I know the kitchen lady, Babs, so - “

“So now you’re taking over the kitchen!” Louis cries triumphantly, victorious in having found something to rip into. “Do you just walk in and try and control everything? Is it a default setting for you, you pitch up and micro-manage?”

“What’s your default setting?” Harry retorts, fire flashing in her eyes. “Pitch up and ruin everything for everyone?”

“I thought I would leave that to you.”

“Oh, having a little break from being so bitter?”

“Fuck off, Harry - “

“No love stories, huh?” Taylor cuts in, sliding into the seat beside Louis. She arches one perfect, blond eyebrow. “Don’t they say the only thing stronger than love, is hate?”

Louis is about to tell Taylor to fuck off, when Harry turns to her, eyes glassy and doe eyed. “That’s really smart, Taylor.”

Taylor preens under the attention like a pretty bird, and Louis is left incredulous. It is literally the shittest chat up technique in the world, but now Harry is actually putting her hand on her Taylor’s arm. Louis is left wide eyed, staring at Harry’s dark nails stark against Taylor’s tanned skin.

Then Harry throws Louis the filthiest look in humanity, the dirtiest smirk on her lips, her eyes dark and seductive, and oh. Louis knows exactly what the little shit is doing. Taylor is seemingly oblivious as Harry turns back, nodding in earnest at what she’s saying. Louis is going to murder her.

**  
**

-

“My name’s James and I don’t like smelly girls.”

Louis rolls her eyes, grabbing the coloured ball off James and tossing it to the girl next to him. “Well, James, unfortunately you are in a team of smelly girls. And smelly boys, too, so you might have to deal with it.”

James gives her an unimpressed look. He’s all scruffy blond hair and skinned knees, shoes laced up tight by his mum when she was leaving, complete with a kiss left on his forehead. His big blue eyes squint at Louis suspiciously, and he wrinkles his tiny nose.

“Jessica,” Louis continues loudly, clapping her hands together. “Why don’t you tell us something you like?”

Thankfully, Jessica is more than happy to babble on about her Frozen obsession, and Louis lets out a sigh of relief. She’d been given her team this morning, five boys and five girls, and they’re currently playing a little warm up game.

It’s nice, sitting on the sun warmed grass. The rays heat the back of her head, and Louis squints over to the other groups. Zayn has organised some kind of drawing competition, and Harry -

Louis lifts up her sunglasses, counts to ten slowly, then turns to her group. “Right, listen up.”

Jessica frowns, chewing on the end of one dark braid. “I was telling Lucy about my Olaf toy.”

“That’s nice,” Louis says blithely, waving her hands. “Right, who’s been here before?”

Three of the boys lift their hands, as do two of the girls. The other five just blink at Louis in confusion.

“Great, so you all know there’s a team challenge every week? And there’s going to be one tonight, and we have to win, yes?”

“Yes!” shouts little Sam, and accidentally smacks Lucy in the face with his backpack. Lucy promptly starts crying, and Louis sighs. One Frozen sticker and a grudging apology later, Louis refocuses.

“Right, so it’ll probably be some kind of obstacle course,” Louis explains, then gestures at Harry’s team. “You see that girl?”

“The one’s who’s making weird shapes?” Sam asks, wrinkling his nose. “It looks kind of silly.”

Louis points at him. “You are my new favourite.”

She can’t believe Harry is actually teaching her kids yoga. There is she is, bending her stupidly lithe body, curly hair framing her face, long legs stretching -

Sam pokes her. “Are we going to do silly bending?”

Louis shakes her head, snapping out of it. She crouches down, beaming at Sam. “No. We are going to see your cool new bunks, yeah?”

The rest of her group all cheers, and Louis beams. Lucy slips a sticky hand in hers, and James tugs on her shirt, and she can do this. She keeps seeing her little sisters, the blond flash of Ellie’s ponytail, Sam’s high pitched giggle identical to Phoebe’s, the cheeky smirk dancing on Luke’s face.

Louis loves this damn camp and Harry fucking Styles is not going to ruin that.

She feels like a troop leader with all her minions trooping after her. At one point Harvey - who is barely six, they always get kids younger than they should be - demands a piggy back. So Louis ends up with a tiny boy clinging to her back, galloping as the rest of them chase her.

“Right,” Louis beams, pulling up by the cabins, gravel skittering everywhere. “Here are the castles you will be staying in.”

“That’s not a castle,” Ava mumbles dubiously, one thumb stuck in her mouth. “I don’t want to stay there.”

Louis ruffles her blond hair, gently tugging her thumb out. “It’ll be really fun, okay? Right girls, you’re in the one of the left. Boys, you’re in the one on the right. Boys, Luke will be waiting in there for you, okay? He’s one of the instructors, he’ll show you where on the things are.”

The boys troop off moodily, James pouting at her, but Louis just rolls her eyes. Luke is lovely guy, Louis has no doubt they’ll be clamoring for his attention in seconds. “Right, Princess Ava, let’s explore your new home.”

The bunks are nice; there’s two bunk beds and a single, and the girls all clamour for the single one. After an intense game of rock, paper, scissors, Holly wins, beaming triumphantly and showing the gaps in her smile.

“Ava, why don’t you share with Ellie?” Louis asks, grabbing the girl’s bag for her. “And Jess and Lucy you can share together?”

“Shot gun top bunk,” Lucy shrieks, flinging her bag. It doesn’t quite make it, cluttering to the floor, and Louis snorts.

“Okay, let me put it up,” Louis says gently, lifting it for the little girl. “Jess, why don’t you unpack, where’s that Olaf toy?”

Louis helps them unpack and spread all their stuff out, before calling all the girls together. Ava is looking a bit teary again, bottom lip trembling. Louis feels a rush of pride when Ellie carefully pats her head. That’s her girls.

“Does everyone like their beds?” There’s a mixed response but Louis soldiers on. “Right, I have my own room, so I won’t sleep in here. But every night there will be someone outside okay? Just to check on you and stuff.”

“You’re not sleeping here?” Ava whines, tugging her sleeve. Her big blue eyes break Louis’ heart. “What if I get scared?”

“You won’t,” Louis promises, “and there will be people there. I think the nice lady from crafts had the night shift today.”

Ava whines. “But what if I get scared?”

Louis pushes her fringe out her face, crouching down. “Okay, listen to me. If you get really scared, I will get a mattress and sleep in here with you.”

Ava blinks her long, fine lashes. “Promise.”

“Pinky promise,” Louis swears solemnly, linking her hand with Ava’s tiny one. “Now come on, we have to go the big team meeting.”

Ava still looks a bit skeptical, but she trails after them. Louis rounds up the boys, then they follow the dirt path to the big team meet. Simon always gives them some time to ‘bond as a group,’ before they all meet up together.

Louis spots Liam in the crowd, blue camp shirt tucked into her black shirts. Her white trainers are immaculate; Louis’ are already covered in dirt and smudges, and her shirt is untucked and hanging past her hips.

“Paynnooo,” Louis sings, bumping her hips with Liam’s. She waves at all of Liam’s kids. “Hello, Liam’s minions.”

“Don’t call them that,” Liam chides, nudging her back. “Have you seen Z? Also they’re having a debrief after they’ve all gone to bed.”

“I haven’t seen your precious darling no,” Louis teases, perching on one of the big log benches. There’s a big semi circle with a little stage in the middle. All the kids have settled down on the log benches, kicking their feet in the dirt and giggling. “And okay, I’ll be there.”

Liam opens her mouth to say something else, but then Simon arrives. He’s with two of the other counsellors, Mark and Paul, who are probably going to supervise the challenge tonight.

Liam settles down beside Louis, hooking their ankles together. Ava sits next to Louis on the right, and the rest of her group file onto the benches in front. “What bunk are you staying in?”

“Me and Zayn snagged the one we were in last year,” Louis murmurs, “are we up for the city this weekend?”

“Once we sort out night rotas,” Liam says, and high fives her. “So you and Zayn are definitely sharing?”

“Yeah, just like before. Shush, Simon’s about to speak.”

Just as Simon clears his throat, someone wiggles past the row in front, and Louis is overwhelmed by the scent of something sweet and fruity. She blinks, then narrows her eyes when a familiar cascade of curls settles in the chair in front.

Louis has never been overly mature, and she doesn’t bother reigning it in now. After a quick glance at Liam - distracted, having finally spotted Zayn - she kicks the back of Harry’s bench. Hard.

Amazingly, Harry doesn’t turn around, just wiggles a bit. Louis frowns, then kicks it again. Then she really gets into and starts mutilating it with her foot. On the fifth go, Harry turns around. She clearly thinks it’s a child, her face a mask of polite irritation, but it drops the moment her eyes fall on Louis’ face.

Louis pastes on her biggest shit eating grin. “I had an itch in my foot.”

Harry narrows her eyes, little flecks of amber dancing in them. “You had an itch in your foot?”

Louis nods seriously. “Yeah, one of those ones you just can’t shake out.”

Harry pushes her tongue into the side of her cheek. “Well, shake it out somewhere else.”

“You should really turn around, Simon is going to start talking,” Louis says sweetly, and Harry scowls at her before whipping back to face the front.

“I’m sure you’ve all settled into your bunks,” Simon is saying, “and that you’ve gotten to know your team leaders. So now it’s time for our weekly team challenge. Each week every team has a chance to win prizes if they come first in the challenge.”

Ava pokes Louis in the side. “I wanna win the challenge.”

Louis pats her head, glaring vehemently at the back of Harry’s. “We will, sweetie.”

She’s not even sure how Harry hears her - for once in her life she’s trying to be discrete - but she manages a pretty good glare with those green eyes.

“So leaders, if you gather your groups up and head over to the obstacle course,” Simon finishes, beaming, “then we can do our first challenge!”

Louis makes sure to give Harry the old evils before they leave, Ava clutching to her shorts. There’s mixed excitement from her lot as they head over; James looks positively green at the sight of the rope bridge.

“Right,” Louis begins, crouching down. “Huddle everyone, group huddle. I know some of you did this last year. It’s easy, yeah? You climb over that bit, then run through the tyres, don’t fall off the beam and sprint all the way back. Easy.”

The majority of her group don’t look like they think it’s easy, they look like it’s going to be absolute hell. Louis can see Harry giving her own group a pep talk, no likely filled with inspirational comments and feng shui tips. Idiot.

“We’re going to win,” Louis promises firmly, clenching her fists. “We going to win this.”

They don’t win this.

They fail miserably, if you’re going for semantics, and Louis is still sulking about it three hours later. Ashton is shooting her amused looks, but Louis is absolutely livid.

“Louis, I’m a little worried you’re about to explode,” Ashton says casually, kicking his legs back and forth. “I can feel the vibrations of your fury from here.”

Louis ignores him, crossing her arms and scowling. What makes the humiliating defeat a hundred times worse, is that it was Harry’s team who beat them. Harry and her stupid glossy hair, and her bullshit yoga, and her dumb frog face. Louis is so mad she’s not even making any sense.

“Are you moping?” Ashton asks, nudging her with his elbow. “Louis, it’s not that bad - “

Louis ignores him and starts singing the Skyfall theme tune, which feels appropriate right now. Ashton pokes her again. “Lewis.”

“This is war, Ashton,” Louis snarls, smacking her palm on the table. “I haven’t lost a team challenge in ages, and the hippy frog face swans in - “

“I really don’t think you can call her that,” Ashton chides gently, patting her hand. “So her team won, it doesn’t matter - “

“This is about pride,” Louis insists, pouting. “And dignity, and the - the integrity of Northerners everywhere.”

“Is Doncaster that North, though?” Ashton ponders, and Louis punches him in the dick. While Ashton is crying in his seat, Louis chews on her bottom lip. It was a close run thing, that’s the issue, Holly had almost completed the tyre one, when one of Harry’s little shits had pipped her to the post. Somehow that makes it even worse, almost there but not quite enough.

Then she had to sit through stupid fucking debrief, with Harry all shiny and happy like a newly wrapped present, and Louis skulking in the back and trying not to throw a chair. Harry had even smirked at her on the way out, which hadn’t minimised Louis’ desire to scratch her eyes out.

“I’m going to have to go kill her,” Louis announces seriously, and Ashton pauses in his groaning to glare at her.

“You’re not going to kill her. She’s actually quite nice. Taylor reckons you’re in lesbians in her.”

Louis actually pauses in her violent fuming to crack up at that. “Taylor probably thinks I’m in lesbians with _Simon_ , she just wants a good love story to dream about.”

“Still sulking, Lou?” Zayn asks sweetly, wandering over hand in hand with Liam. Louis flips her off just for the saccharine grin she gives her. “Oh my god, you are!”

Louis narrows her eyes. “I need you to cover me when I bury the body.”

Zayn nods. “I can say we were on a fag break.”

“Excellent.”

“No one is killing anyone,” Liam sighs, tugging Zayn into her side. Zayn goes easily, tucking her head into the crook of Liam’s neck. “Tomorrow is a new day, you can psyche up your troops tomorrow. You don’t even have to do night shift today, Caroline is going to sort them all out later!”

“Thank you for you sunny optimism,” Louis bitches, but hides a smile when Liam ruffles her hair. “Come on, piggyback to our cabin, Payne. Stop touching your girlfriend for half a second.”

Louis snorts when she sees the genuine consternation on Liam’s face as the prospect, throwing herself at her so she has no choice but to grab her legs. “Come on, new day tomorrow.”

Louis was just warming up. She’ll kick Harry’s butt tomorrow. It’s all about the planning. **  
**


	2. Chapter 2

As cliche as it sounds, Louis feels ten times better the next day. The soft rays of the sun slide across their cabin floor, she can hear the sweet sounds of birds singing outside, and Zayn doesn’t even give her a black eye for waking her up, so win-win.

“Do you want to braid my hair?” Zayn mumbles, eyelids heavy and voice muffled.

They sit cross legged on Zayn’s bed, Louis small fingers in Zayn’s soft hair, threading and weaving, and it’s so peaceful, so calm. Just her and her best friend in the soft darkness as the world wakes up.

“All good, Katniss,” Louis jokes softly, tying the end with a band. Zayn kisses her cheek in gratitude, sliding their hands together and pulling her up.

“Do you know what group you’re paired with, yet?” Louis yawns, shivering in the brisk air. “I hope we get rotated together, that was sick last year.”

“And if we get put on night shift together,” Zayn beams, bumping their knuckles together. “Though that probably won’t happen, considering what happened outside cabin 2.”

“Cabin 2,” Louis sighs wistfully, blinking at the clear blue sky. “I knew we should have hid that weed.”

“You were the one who made us take it!” Zayn scowls, and they bicker about it all the way to breakfast. It’s packed as ever, the giggles and chatter of the children comforting. Louis maneuvers her way to the breakfast queue, grinning when she sees the bacon. Everything is better with bacon.

“Louis, have you seen the rotation sheets?” Leigh Anne asks cooly, siding up beside her. Louis flicks her eyes over Leigh Anne’s face, taken aback a little by how stunning she is. It’s pretty much a conditioned response by now.

“Not yet, babe,” Louis smirks, grin widening when Leigh taps a finger against her wrist. “Maybe we’ll get put on night shift together.”

“Maybe,” Leigh Anne agrees, and winks as she walks off. Louis jumps when the dinner lady asks if she wants hash browns; she can’t survive this amount of beautiful women.

“Liam, your breakfast is on your plate, not in Zayn’s mouth,” Louis announces as she sits down, cackling when Liam almost headbutts Zayn in surprise.”See, this is an egg. This is a plate. This is an egg on the plate.”

“They’re celebrating,” Niall explains, and Louis peers at her with curious eyes. Despite being friends with Harry, which is basically a capital offence, she has no evidencethat Niall is a complete tosser.

“Oh yeah?” Louis says casually, “what are they celebrating?”

“They got put on rotation together,” Niall answers, “I think they have sports week first, but then Liam stuck her tongue in Zayn’s mouth.”

Louis actually giggles at that, and Niall looks delighted, eyes lighting up under the brim of her red snapback. “Do you know who you’re on rotation with?”

“Not yet,” Niall shrugs, messy blond hair framing her face. “Being with Haz would be cool. Or you.”

Christ, Louis can’t be mean to this kid. All she wants to do is pat her on the head and tell her not to spend all her pennies at once. “Yeah, it would be.” The look of gratitude Niall shoots her makes Louis’ heart hurt. “Who has the sheet?”

“What sheet?” Harry asks, perching in her chair like a queen. Louis wants to push her off and it’s only half eight in the morning. Even her camp uniform looks good, the material pulled tight across the curve of her breasts - and nope. Nope. Louis is not doing this. No sir.

“They pair the groups up,” Niall explains cheerfully, gesturing to the piece of paper Jesy is now holding. “There’s too many groups for one to do a different activity, so they pair them up.”

“Oh right,” Harry drawls, and why does she speak so stupidly slow? It’s not a hard concept to grasp. “That sounds fun, better than ending up alone.”

“You’re not alone,” Louis cuts in, because her restraint levels are now down to the zero. “You’re surrounded by ten children. Do you not remember that?”

Harry looks up, jade eyes narrowing. She leans forward unconsciously, flipping a curl behind her shoulder. “You know what I remember? You losing last night.”

Louis scoffs, throwing her hands in the air. “Okay, that was a crappy comeback, did you even try with that one?”

“You still lost,” Harry sing songs, and Louis can feel her fists clench. She pushes her plate away, stomach feeling queasy.

“Between Zayn and Liam moulding into one, and _you_ ,” Louis begins, pointing at Harry on the last word, “I have completely lost my appetite.”

Harry glances at Liam and Zayn, and frowns. She glares at Louis, crossing her arms. “Have you really got a problem with them?”

Louis blinks, thrown off. “With who?”

“With Zayn and Liam,” Harry snaps, and she looks proper angry now, curls tumbling around her face. “There’s nothing wrong with it, don’t be so close minded.”

Louis is completely stumped, but Harry ignores her noise of protest, continuing with her social justice tirade. “All you do is bitch about them, you should be more aware of what you’re saying. Words hurt, and what’s more - “

“Wait a moment, you think I have a problem with them being gay?” Louis exclaims, realisation hitting her like a sledgehammer. “What, are you being serious?”

Harry looks livid now, chest rising and falling in indignation. “Homophobia is a serious subject - “

Louis feels fury rise in her chest, bristling like a bird shaking it’s feathers. She catches Harry’s wrist, wrapping her hands around the pulse point and squeezing. “I don’t have a problem with them being gay. I have a problem with them humping each other’s legs like dogs.”

Louis can see the moment Harry understands, the dawning in her eyes. She moves to pull her hand back, but Louis doesn’t let go, digs her nails into the sharp jut of bone. “And by the way, I know homophobia is serious. Trust me.”

She releases Harry wrist and sits back, bile rising in her throat as memories overwhelm her. There’s a fragile concoction of anger and hurt and indignation, a blended up mess of tears and taunts, and it makes her eyes sting.

She refuses to look at Harry, ducking her head as Zayn squeezes her thigh gently. Harry looks mortified, cheeks scarlet; she’s only across the table, but it feels like oceans.

“Sorry,” Harry mumbles, and the word hangs in the air on an ugly, tangled cobweb.

“Sheet!” Jesy says loudly, slamming it down by Niall’s plate. Louis feels all her blood kickstart in her body. She clears her throat, taking a long sip of her orange juice. It’s tart on her throat, and she can see Harry reading the list through the rim of the glass.

“Oh,” Harry says dumbly, and Louis looks up curiously. Harry is holding the paper like a grenade and Louis feels apprehension curl in her stomach. Wordlessly, Harry hands the paper over.

Louis glances at it for a second before laying it down. “Looks like we’re partners.”

Harry swallows, eyes glassy. “Yeah, I guess we are.”

-

 

To make matters worse, not only is she paired with Harry, her first rotation is fucking nature week. Nature, in Louis’ opinion, is a wet footie pitch and the seagulls that bomb her in the park. It’s boring, and soggy, and completely uninteresting.

She, Liam and Zayn even went camping once. Liam spent the whole time looking for snake habitats, and Louis completely bombed at making the tent. Mainly she just sat in the deck chair and admired Liam’s muscles. And her calves, because Liam has seriously good calves. Something her and a drunken Zayn have reminisced on many a time.

“Right,” Harry says nervously, and Louis rolls her eyes. She’d been ignoring her co-worker whilst they were waiting for the children to turn up. Harry must have been on the same wavelength, because she’d tried to squish up her gigantor body against a tree.

Louis continues to ignore her, but Harry speaks again. “I am sorry, you know. For assuming things.”

Louis flashes Harry a bland smile. The kind she pastes on when one of the kids announce they have nits. “You should be.”

She really shouldn’t get such a kick out of watching Harry’s nostrils flare. “Well, I am. Okay?”

“That’s a bit passive aggressive,” Louis comments, and she really, really shouldn’t be doing this. “Not your usual style, Harriet.”

“That’s not my name,” Harry snaps, and Louis feels a thrill at having broken her ordinarily polite demeanour. “Do you always do this? Push people and push people, until they eventually snap?”

“Do you always accuse lesbians of being homophobes?” Louis snarls, and Harry pushes off the tree.

A dim part of Louis’ brain notes how much taller Harry is; she has to lean back to meet those bottle green eyes. They’re lined with black at the moment, dark with anger, and Louis narrows her own.

“How was I supposed to know that?” Harry breathes, close enough Louis can smell the minty gum she’s chewing. Even that little movement makes her fists clench.

“Just don’t assume things, idiot,” Louis answers, rocking forward on her feet. The tension between them is palpable, dizzying, and her head is spinning. “You weren’t here last year.”

“And what did I miss?” Harry asks, voice dangerously soft, and Louis’ almost forgotten what they’re talking about. The sun cards warm fingers through her hair, and Harry’s eyes are _greengreengreen_.

“Me going down on Leigh Anne,” Louis whispers, and her heart thumps when Harry’s pupils blow.

“I hate leaves!”

Louis and Harry break apart so fast she stumbles. She pulls her arm free from Harry’s warm fingers, blinking as if she’s waking from a dream. Her skin is itching with the need to do something and she pulls her fingers through her hair, tugging on the knots.

“No you don’t, James,” she sighs, grateful for the sudden chaos ten children can bring. “We’re going to have a fun week, I promise.”

One of Ava’s bunches has fallen out, and Sam doesn’t have any sunscreen on, and _no, you can’t eat bark, Jessica, put it down,_ and there’s enough mayhem for Louis’ burning cheeks to cool.

By the time the nature guide has turned up, Louis is completely composed and not thinking about - whatever that just was with Harry.

“Right, here are your nature sheets,” the guide explains, handing out some laminated sheets with pictures. “You have to see how many of these animals you can find. Some of them are quite easy but some of them are quite shy, so you might have to be extra quiet.”

“That sounds great, thank you,” Harry says politely, handing her own sheets out. “Are you coming with us?”

She dimples when she smiles and Louis bites back a snarky comment. Harry has even charmed their nature guide.

“I can walk ahead with some of the older ones, they’re normally quite a handful,” the lady offers.

Harry laughs like this is the greatest observation ever. It’s not. “That’s fine, me and Louis can handle the younger ones.”

“Louis can speak for herself,” Louis mutters, and scowls when Harry shoots her a warning look. “Right, Ava, Harvey, Lucy and Ellie you come with me.”

Harvey’s little face crumples. “I don’t want to be with all the girls.”

“Harry’s kids are coming as well,” Louis sighs, “and you like Ellie, don’t you? You sat with her at breakfast.”

“Oh yeah,” Harvey beams, and Louis exhales. Crisis averted. Harry gathers a few of her kids, and Louis is pleasantly surprised when James hugs her before running off.

“You’re just a softie, aren’t you?” Louis teases, and James flushes before he scampers away with his sheet.

“You ready to go?” Harry asks, raising an eyebrow. Louis makes sure to smack into Harry as she barges past.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis’ beginning to feel like her entire week is an emotional hand grenade, and it’s only Monday. She’s pretty happy to just ignore Harry’s existence for the rest of the walk, but Harry grabs her arm half an hour in.

To be precise, Harry wraps her long, warm fingers around Louis’ arm and Louis stares at it for about five minutes, before wrenching her arm free. From an extremely objective point of view, Harry has a really good hands.

“Look, Louis,” Harry stutters, and Louis’ pulse jumps at the way her voice slips on the syllables. “I honestly didn’t mean - “

“I know,” Louis whines, because she really doesn’t want to talk about this. “Just leave it, god - “

She glances over to where Ava and Ellie are puttering about. Luckily, they seem pretty occupied with a bush of berries. Ah well, as long as they don’t eat them it’ll be fine.

“You’re not the only one,” Harry cuts in, tone sharp and Louis blinks at her, confused. “Not the only one to know how serious homophobia is.”

“Oh,” Louis says blankly, then, “ _oh_.”

Harry is deliberately not looking at her, plucking a flower off the ground. She begins to pluck off the petals, slow and precise. “Yeah.”

Louis chews on her bottom lip. “Parents or friends?”

Harry shreds the stem of the flower, quick fingers slicing the green stalk. “Friends.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Louis exhales, and it feels like she puts her entire soul on the line with those three words. It shimmers in the sunlight, a confession that holds so much weight.

She shifts her weight from foot to foot, clenching and unclenching her fists. Harry looks fierce, eyes viridescent and burnished is sunlight. Louis catches her gaze and they stand shoulder to shoulder for a bit, the same nightmares set free into their little forest.

“And how did that make you feel?” Harry breaks the silence, in the worst therapist voice Louis has ever heard, and Louis cracks up.

“Fuck off, Harry.” Harry just smirks at her and skips off, swinging her slim hips.

Louis watches her go, feeling strangely light, until Ava makes to shove an entire stick of berries in her mouth and she has to intervene before she poisons herself.

 

 

-

 

 

“You can’t tick that off.”

As a group leader, Louis gets a clipboard so she can tick off her group’s name on the register. It also has all the schedules for the week, and a map incase the newbies get lost. When Zayn is especially high, she says she’s going to burn them as symbolic destruction of systematic surveillance. Louis just likes fire.

Anyway, right now Louis is going to use said clipboard as a murder weapon, because Harry is being a pedantic little fucker. God forbid their little lesbian heart to heart should make Harry any less of a _dick_.

“Why not?” Louis asks, fighting to keep her voice sweet. Harvey is chatting with Jacob from Harry’s team, but Ellie is staring at her worriedly. She knows from personal experience seeing mum and dad fight is no fun. Or in this case mum and mum. Estranged and extremely hostile mum and mum.

“That’s a _common_ blue,” Harry insists, jabbing a picture of a butterfly with one finger. “You’re ticking off an adonis blue.”

“It’s a freaking butterfly,” Louis hisses, pushing her aviators down her nose. The trees don’t do much to hide the sun, shining streaks in Harry’s hair and tinging it red. “I’m going to tick it.”

“No, they’re completely different,” Harry demands, “the adonis has a lighter left wing, whilst its thorax is slightly smaller - “

This kid, seriously. “I don’t care about its bloody thorax.”

“No, it’s important, most butterflies range from ⅛ inch to 12 inches, but this species - “

“Literally. Do not. Give. A shit,” Louis enunciates, and is gratified to see Harry take a calming breath. She might start a point system; if she can get her to pop a vein that’s a solid fiftey. “I am ticking it.”

“No,” Harry snaps, grabbing the clipboard. “Take this seriously, this is their education.”

Louis gapes at her, tightening her own grip on the clipboard. “No, it’s not. It’s a shitty tick the box if you see a new adonis - “

“Blue!” Harry interjects, tugging at the clipboard. “It’s not new, it’s a blue adonis.”

“It’s a fucking butterfly!” Louis snarls, “fine, I won’t tick it.”

She all but pushes the clipboard away and Harry clearly isn’t expecting it. By some miracle, and Harry’s absurd refusal to accept she isn’t a baby deer, Harry goes careening backward. Louis instinctively reaches for her, but only ends up tripping herself.

She manages to land on an extremely pointy root, barely biting back a curse. Harry looks absolutely murderous, sprawled about on the floor like a just born giraffe, unable to use its limbs.

“You did that on purpose,” she accuses, dusting off her shirt. “Why do you have to be such a prick?”

“I fell as well!” Louis points out, pointedly not giving Harry a hand up. “Now you’ve made Natasha cry, good one.”

Harry looks utterly stricken at that, scrambling to her feet and quickly scooping up the bawling girl. It makes Louis feel a little guilty, but then she spies a rip in her shorts and switches back to barely concealed hatred.

“Um, can I have my sheet?” Ellie asks carefully, tugging on Louis’ shorts. “I think I spotted another butterfly.”

Harry lifts her head and Louis attempts to burn her with her eyes. “Don’t say a thing, Styles, just don’t.”

They trudge on, Louis hiding her sheet from Harry’s prying eyes. It’s getting hotter, and Louis can feel the shirt sticking to her back. Harry, the bitch, is somehow pulling off the sunstroke look. Her curls are pushed back with another ridiculous headband but one sticks to her neck, stark black against her pale skin. Her shorts are completely indecent, showing off her tanned, long legs, and Louis has to admit her arse looks great. Not as good as Louis’ though, naturally.

Louis feels like a beat up truck next to a sports car. A leggy, curly haired sports car, and a beat up truck with murder inclinations.

“Louis, I’m hot,” Ava whines once they tick off the seventh caterpillar. Louis’ pretty certain the last one was actually a mouldy stick, but arguing with a tired toddler doesn’t go well for anyone. “And tired, my legs hurt.”

Louis sighs, pushing her own fringe away from her head. Cutting it was definitely a good idea. “Okay, we can have a break.”

Harry’s poking around a bush, muttering something about animal tracks, so Louis lobs a stone at her. It bounces off one delicate ankle, and Louis wolf whistles. “Oi, princess. Can we rest a minute?”

Harry rolls her eyes but complies, gathering her own brood and making a space off the path. She pulls a bottle out of her backpack, passing it round, and Louis does the same for her lot. Little Harvey looks exhausted, bless him.

“Come here,” Louis orders, tugging him in front of her. “Sunscreen time all of you, I don’t need to take five lobsters back.”

Harvey giggles and Louis smiles, ruffling his hair as she rubs in the lotion. She does the same for the girls, making sure to get their noses and necks. Lottie once burnt the whole back of her legs, and it didn’t fade away for ages, a permanent burn on her pale skin.

“You’re good with them,” Harry murmurs softly, and Louis glances at her. She doesn’t recognise any hostility in Harry’s face, just genuine honesty.

“I have sisters,” Louis says haltingly. Harry’s eyes flick to where Louis is stroking Ellie’s hair, and Louis’ stomach flips. “Um. Four of them. So I’m used to babysitting.”

Harry takes a long drink of water, pale neck arching in the sunlight. She swallows, rubbing one hand over her mouth. “I only have one, and she’s older than me.”

“So you’re the baby,” Louis teases, and it comes out easy, smooth like honey, as if she’s talking to Zayn or Liam. The sun is making her head woozy, she swears.

“I’m completely incapable if you listen to her,” Harry laughs, the sound high and sweet, and Louis grins before she can help herself.

It’s probably the first conversation they’ve had without hating each other. Well if you don’t include the mutual angst and indirect coming out chat earlier, which Louis doesn’t. Harry still grates on her nerves, even if she can resonate with all the little niggling worries in Louis’ head.

Either way it makes Louis feel achy and confused, so she retreats. She goes back to rubbing lotion into her arms, her hands sticky, soothing her throat with a sip of her drink.

“I think we lost Pam,” Harry says finally, and Louis cocks her head to one side.

“Who’s Pam?”

“The nature guide,” Harry explains, and Louis snorts derisively.

“You bring charming to a whole new level, you know that?”

Harry purses her lips. “Please, as if you don’t know the names of all of cooking staff.”

Louis swallows, cringing at the feeling of being thrown. She takes a big bite of an apple, mumbling through it. “And you know that, how? Been stalking me, Styles?”

“It’s your incredible manners,” Harry deadpans, and Louis glowers at her. “No, I told you I was friends with Babs in the kitchen.”

“I literally don’t care,” Louis says, because she doesn’t. Well, a small part of Louis would protest, but. But that’s hidden under a big pile of denial and insecurity and repression, and Louis isn’t touching that with a bargepole. So complete apathy it is.

Harry shuts down completely. She turns away, hiding her face with her mass of curls, and doesn’t speak to Louis for the rest of the break.

Louis blames the queasiness in her stomach on a bad apple.

“Come on,” Louis cajoles once they’ve had a rest, picking Ava and swinging her round. She giggles and Louis taps her on the nose. “Lucy, Ellie, how many animals do you have left to see?”

Lucy pouts, blinking her big brown eyes. “I need to see a fox.”

Louis’ shoulders slump, squeezing Lucy’s hand. “Sorry, love. Foxes normally come out at night. And they stay in one place.”

“Actually, they’re fairly transient,” Harry chimes in, because she is apparently an all knowing nature goddess. “They move from place to place. It’s true they’re nocturnal, but they can be seen in daytimes in suburban or urban areas.”

Louis fixes her with a stare. “And are we in a suburban or urban area?”

Harry tugs at her bottom lip with her teeth. “Um, no - “

“So thanks for the false hope,” Louis smiles, and mentally fist bumps when she sees Harry’s face fall.

“Excuse me for actually contributing,” Harry grits out, knuckles turning white from where she’s gripping the straps of her backpack. “I’m the one actually putting effort into this, not randomly kicking pebbles off the path.”

“I’m not - “ Louis begins, then looks down at her scuffed shoes. Oops.

Harry raises one eyebrow. “You were saying?”

She flounces away, grabbing Natasha’s hand whilst the other kids scurry after her like she’s Snow White. It’s like Harry’s a crazy mash up of Disney characters, Snow White, Bambi. Louis bets she’d look like Tarzan if she got that hair wet.

“Are you and Harry fighting?” Lucy asks suspiciously, squinting at Louis. “I’m not allowed to do that, so I don’t think you should be allowed to.”

“We’re not fighting,” Louis starts, then realises she has no idea how to finish that. We just mutually despise each other’s guts and wouldn’t mind seeing the other one burn in hell. Yeah, maybe not.

“We just - disagree on some things,” Louis finishes. Lucy gives her a skeptical look. Louis can’t blame her; she wouldn’t believe that brand of bullshit either.

Ellie insists on looking for a hedgehog, which isn’t even on the sheet, but Louis can’t resist her puppy eyes. She ends up with scratches on her arms, and dirt on her thigh, but Ellie grins all the while so it’s worth it.

“Is that mud?” Harry asks when they catch up with her, peering at Louis’ thigh.

“I have a more hands on approach,” Louis snarks, peering at the mottled smudge.

“It looks like poo.”

Louis’ head snaps up and she shoves Harry in the arm. “Don’t say that, I don’t have poo on my leg.”

“Okay,” Harry drawls, and Louis can feel irritation begin to scratch at her skin. “If you say so.”

Oh god, please don’t let Louis have badger shit on her leg. Please no, lord. “I don’t, stop saying that.”

“If you want to risk it,” Harry says again, expression serenely calm, and Louis’ stomach flips in growing frustration. “I personally wouldn’t, but.”

“Grow up,” Louis hisses, blood boiling when she sees Harry’s lips tilt up. “This isn’t funny, knock it off.”

“I just heard that stuff is really potent,” Harry shrugs nonchalantly. “You might want to wash it off straight away - “

“Okay, earth goddess,” Louis snaps, because the last thing she needs is a bunch of little kids making poo related jokes. Because little kids find that hilarious and she can already see Harvey’s eyes lighting up. “Just shut up, yeah?”

Fifteen minutes later, Harry catches Louis desperately washing her leg with a bottle of Lucozade behind a tree. Harry laughs so hard she can’t speak, and Louis chucks a rock at her head.

 

 

-

 

 

“I am done with nature,” Louis groans as throws herself into a chair. She pulls a random twig out of her hair and scrubs at her hand. “I think I had an allergic reaction, look.”

Liam doesn’t offer to give her hand massage, which would be an acceptable response, but instead fixes Louis with a skeptical look. “Didn’t you push Harry into a bush?”

Louis shuffles in her chair. “Um. Define push.”

“Forcibly shove,” Liam clarifies sarcastically, and Louis groans. She knows teaching Liam sarcasm was a mistake.

“Maybe.”

Liam sighs. “Louis, I could hear you two screaming each other from the other side of the camp. And Harry stumbled out with a scratched up face and half a tree in her hair.”

“I have half a tree in my hair!” Louis exclaims, chucking the twig at Liam. “She was provoking me and we - tussled.”

“Tussled,” Liam repeats dully, shaking her head. “Okay, just sit there, please. All you have to do is get through this debrief. Don’t attack anyone, don’t push anyone in a bush, just - behave. Please.”

“Okay,” Louis sighs, and slumps onto Liam’s shoulder. Liam strokes her hair, which is quite comforting, really. Liam can stay.

Caroline is leading debrief today, which is a relief. She’s calm and kind, and her baby son sometimes comes to stay in the creche, and he is ridiculously cute. “Okay, guys, I have the night shift sheets here.”

She clears her throat, winking when she gets to Zayn and Liam. She’s always had a soft spot for Zayn. “Zayn, I put you and Liam together, considering you share the same cabin. Save one of you waking up the other. I know you like your sleep, Zaynie”

Louis frowns. “Um, no. Me and Zayn are sharing, like last year.”

Caroline pats her arm, winking again. “It’s okay, love, no one minds those two sharing a cabin. They’re a cute pair, anyone can see they’re head over heels.”

“No,” Louis repeats, trying to dull the hint of urgency in her voice. “No, me and Zayn really are sharing.”

“Oh,” Caroline replies, obviously taken aback. “I just assumed - I mean - well. I guess I’ll have to change the schedules. I thought - well, never mind.”

Louis feels stupidly guilty now, biting her lip as Caroline shuffles her sheets around. “I’m really sorry - “

“What’s going on?” Harry interjects, wandering over peering curiously at the sheets. Louis makes sure to catch her eye, and pointedly flicks away a piece of bark. “You okay, Caroline?”

Niall has trailed after her, ripping open a packet of cheese and onion crisps. She offers one to Louis, which she accepts graciously.

“There’s just been a mix up with the sheets,” Liam explains, “Caroline put me and Zayn together because we were sharing, but um. Obviously we’re not.”

“Oh,” Harry drawls, voice slow and sweet like honey. “Um, why aren’t you two sharing? I thought you two would like some time together, especially after a hard day.” She smirks suddenly, dimples curving in her cheeks. “Heh. Penis jokes.”

Louis stares. “None of them have a penis.”

Harry glares at her. “Passed biology, did you?”

“Okay,” Caroline cuts in, frowning at the both of them. “Liam and Zayn, I can change the sheet that’s fine. I’ll have to swap the other ones, but - “

“Why doesn’t Liam just share with Zayn?” Niall asks, and everyone swivels to look at her. She blinks, licking crumbs off her fingers. “What? It makes sense for Zayn and Liam to just share. Then Caroline doesn’t have to change all the rotations, and the happy couple can share.”

Any feelings of goodwill Louis felt towards Niall disappear in a flash. This can’t be happening. “Um, and who will I share with?”

Niall smiles. “With Harry, Liam’s roommate.”

Louis’ about to say she’d rather walk over fire then have an acid foot rub, when she sees the hope blooming in Liam’s hazel eyes. Zayn is as collected as ever, but she’s tapping her thigh with her fingers, something she only does when she’s excited.

Oh god. Louis really wishes she could remove her conscience right now. With a crowbar.

“Me and Harry can share,” she says dully, looking at the ground. She can sense Harry shifting beside her, but ignores it. “Zayn can swap with Harry.”

Because Louis may be big enough to give up her roommate, but fuck is she giving up her cabin. She can already feel regret burning in her stomach, the ache in her throat that wishes she could bite back those words.

“Louis, are you sure?” Liam asks, and that’s worse, because her big damn puppy dog eyes look so grateful. Louis can handle a lot of things, but Liam’s puppy eyes are like getting hit with a truck.

“Yeah, it’s fine. We can share,” Harry chimes in, and she is definitely staring daggers at her now. “Wouldn’t want to put you out, Caroline.”

“Right,” Louis agrees, and tries to fight the feeling she just signed her own death warrant.

-

“Right,” Louis says, shoving the door open. It smacks against the door jam, a hollow, empty sound. “That’s my bed, I get first shower and - what. What are you doing?”

Harry ignores her, wandering over to Louis’ bunk. She collapses on top of it, resting her head on her hand and stretching out her legs. She smirks. “Paint me like one of your french girls.”

“Yep, no,” Louis sighs, and fully drags Harry off the bed. Harry lands on the floor with a thump, smacking her elbow on the floor. “That’s my bed. You can have the other one.”

“Do you have to be such a bitch?” Harry pushes herself off the floor, rubbing her elbow with one hand. “We have to share a room, try not to maim your roommate.”

“It’s not my fault Liam and Zayn can’t stand to be apart for more than ten seconds.” Louis shoots Harry a dirty look. “Oh no, wait, that’s probably just my homophobia shining through.”

“I already apologised for that!” Harry spits, throwing her bag on the bed with such force it rattles. “And you threw a knife at me, and you never even apologised!”

“A _small_ knife,” Louis emphasises, “it wasn’t going to hurt you.”

Harry looks so incredulous Louis thinks she might actually pop a vein. She pushes her hands through her hair, holding it back with her fingers. “Can we just go to bed? You going to get the tape out, divide the bathroom in half?”

“I’m going first,” Louis snaps, shoving past her. She doesn’t even want to go first, she wants to piss Harry off.

She cools off a bit in the bathroom. The mirror glass is cool when she presses her forehead against it, and it soothes her heated skin. It‘s quiet in the bathroom as well, everything muted by the soft door, and Louis brushes her teeth hard enough the minty taste burns her throat.

All in all, Louis has found her zen by the time she’s done. She’s gives herself a once over in the mirror, and is fully prepared to spend a lovely night ignoring Harry and resenting her entire existence.

A plan which is shot the hell the moment she steps out the bathroom, and walks in on a naked body.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Louis screeches, clapping a hand over her eyes. Her heart is thumping so hard her ribs ache, and Harry is just blinking at her innocently. “Put some fucking clothes on!”

“I like being naked,” Harry pouts, as if Louis hadn’t fucking realised that. She’s in a skimpy piece of lace, and she’s holding her shirt in front of her chest, but Louis can clearly see the curve of her breast.

“I don’t need an eyeful of sideboob!” Louis shouts when Harry makes no move to cover up. Her heart's still pounding, and her stomach is flipping over and over. “Harry, put some freaking clothes on!”

“God, being naked is natural,” Harry gripes, but she thankfully turns around. Louis keeps her hands firmly over her eyes. “Society enforces this shame of enjoying your body, but you should be strong enough to - “

“Shut up,” Louis moans, “I can see why Liam didn’t want to share with you. Are you ready to act like a normal human being, now?”

There’s a rustling sound, and Louis feels the moment drag, her pulse quickening. Eventually Harry coughs, clearing her throat. “Okay, you can turn around now.”

Louis peaks between her fingers, and asserts Harry is in fact clothed. Not by much, she’s still in her lacy underwear, but she’s now wearing a loose band shirt. “Finally. Okay, go brush your teeth with your musical toothbrush or whatever. I want to go to bed.”

Harry just rolls her eyes, crossing the room, and Louis breathes a sigh of relief. She flops down onto her bed, snuggling under the covers and rolling to the face the wall. The adrenaline looping her body slowly stills, fading away and settling.

Louis punches her pillow to make it more comfortable. It’s not like she hasn’t seen naked girls before - Louis has seen a lot of naked girls, and hopes to see a lot of more, if she has anything to say about it. But Harry just - completely threw her off. Louis closes her eyes, and all she can see is smooth pale skin, and curvy hips and just - she can’t do this.

“Done,” Harry calls, and Louis ignores her, tucking her duvet around her shoulders. She hears Harry sigh, then the creak of the bed as she climbs up the ladder to the top bunk.

It’s quiet after that, and Louis closes her eyes. She thinks she hears Harry mumbling something above her, but she’s asleep before her head hits the pillow.

 

 

-

 

 

Her cabin is definitely infested with crickets.

Or another species of small, noisy insects. Louis’ not certain, but there’s definitely a weird clicking noise coming from somewhere. They’re probably going to get eaten alive. Oh well, they’ll eat Zayn first. It’s probably a dream.

Only the noise continues, and Louis’ tired. She’s warm in her little nest of blankets, warm and comfortable, and there’s at least an hour because she has to drag Zayn of bed. There’s a decent sixty minutes of snuggling time.

Only the clicking noise doesn’t stop, and Louis can feel sleep slipping away from her. She wiggles around, sneaking one eye open, only to frown when she’s met with a panoramic view of Harry’s butt.

Said butt is encased in yoga pants, and attached to a body currently pulling an extremely complicated pose. Louis didn’t even know your legs could bend that way.

“What,” Louis yawns, and it comes out an intelligible mumble. “The fuck, are you doing?”

Her mind begins to clear away the drowsiness and she sits up. The instinctive I want to stab you feeling is manifesting. Louis should probably analyse that, but it’s six in the fucking morning, and Louis is not feeling rational. At all.

“Astanga pranam,” Harry answers, and why is she so fucking cheerful, why? “Or the caterpillar pose. So yoga, if you wanted the macro answer. Though yoga is really an umbrella term, there are six - “

“Shut the fuck up,” Louis moans, grabbing a pillow and clamping it over her ears. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, why are you doing this, stop.”

She lifts a pillow for a second, glaring at Harry. Everything is hazy from sleep, and Harry is just a blur of curls and viridescent eyes. “What is that noise?”

“Are you always this inquisitive?” Harry twists her body into a shape that makes Louis’ head hurt. “And it’s dolphins.”

In that moment, Louis experiences more hatred than she has ever felt in her life. It’s like she is drowning in loathing. Her hands are physically itching with the desire to throttle someone.

“Dolphins,” Louis repeats dully.

Harry beams at her. “Yeah, they - “

Louis rolls off the bed, grabs Harry’s yoga mat, and smacks her over the head with it. She doesn’t even register Harry’s howls, just blindly stumbles to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?”

“Going to drown myself!” Louis shouts, and slams her door on Harry’s responding cackle.

 

 

-

 

 

“I can’t do this,” Louis gripes at breakfast, squeezing Zayn’s hips. “Please, Zayn. Come back. Please, I will bring you breakfast in bed. I will grant you sexual favours. I will let you graffiti my body, please.”

“Get off me,” Zayn says calmly, scooping some grapefruit in her bowl. Louis shakes her head, draping herself against Zayn’s back. Her theory is that if she attaches herself to Zayn like a magnet, Zayn won’t be able to leave and will have to come back. “And no.”

“Zayn,” Louis whines, burrowing her face in Zayn’s hair. “Bro, please. I will left you have my last bag of weed.”

“You don’t have any weed,” Zayn hisses, elbowing her in the ribs. “And don’t say that, do you want to get our arses fired?”

Louis won't let go so they have to walk like conjoined twins over to the table. Zayn refuses to sit on Louis’ lap, so Louis pouts and sits next to Niall. Her eyes still feel gritty, and her mouth tastes like ash.

“Hey, Lou,” Niall says cheerfully, and Louis decides to give over to her feline instincts. She rests her head on Niall’s shoulder, letting out a huge sigh. Niall just pats her head and feeds her bacon, which is nice. Louis forgives her a fraction for making her share with the bane of her existence.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Your friend is a maniac. Who the fuck listens to dolphins?”

Niall frowns at her, little fingers carding through her hair. “What are you talking about?”

“Harry playing bloody dolphin sounds while she was doing her yoga,” Louis groans, resting her head on her arms. “I woke up and I thought we had a cricket infestation.”

“Mate, Harry never listens to anything when she does yoga,” Niall says hesitantly, and Louis sits up so fast her neck cracks. “Says it distracts her. She literally has to have complete silence, growls at me if I even open the door.”

Louis gapes at her. “Are you serious?”

Niall winces. “Yes.”

“Right,” Louis repeats, and Zayn shoots her a worried look.

“Lou - “

“Time to get even,” Louis announces, and it’s gratifying to see all the blood drain from Zayn’s face.

 

-

The good thing about children, is they don’t even bat an eyelid when Louis tells them they need to gather as much mud as they can. On the contrary, James all but dives into the nearest mud puddle.

“Um, why are we doing this?” Ellie asks tentatively, jabbing the mud with one finger.

Louis had told Harry she was taking the children on an ‘independent nature walk.’ This is bullshit. What else is bullshit, is Harry listening to fucking dolphins at the fucking crack of dawn.

They’re in one of the shadier parts of the forest, a little river running past near by, and tall pines casting long shadows. Louis is crouched in the dirt, uncapping a bottle. Harvey looks vaguely terrified.

“It’s for an experiment,” Louis explains indistinctly. Ellie’s eyes widen.

“A nature experiment?”

“A nature experiment,” Louis nods, and Ellie squints suspiciously.

“I don’t believe you.”

“Ellie,” Louis sighs, and thrusts a bottle at her. “I promise this is for the greater good.”

“And we get to play in mud,” James cheers, and really. Louis deserves a prize for being the queen of payback.

-

“I’m going to shower.”

Louis looks up from her phone, raising her eyebrows. “Okay.”

Harry purses her lips, and Louis has to bite the side of her cheek to stop herself laughing. Instead she composes her face into a mask of disinterest. “What are you waiting for? Do I need to sign a permission slip?”

Louis runs a hand through her hair, cringing. Too much. Shit. “You seemed happy enough to traumatise me with your naked body last night.”

Harry flounces out, slamming the door, and Louis grins. Fucking nailed it.

Louis only has to wait three minutes before a shriek comes from the bathroom. She knows, because she times it exactly. Harry screams so loud that a laugh bursts from Louis’ mouth, and she has to clap a hand over her lips to stop herself cracking up.

Harry storms out of the bathroom, wrapped only in a towel, and then Louis really can’t hold it back.

Harry’s long hair is slicked back by water, but instead of shampoo bubbles, there’s dirty sludges of mud dripping down her face. Louis is actually doubled over with laughter as this point, nails digging into her ribs.

“What the fuck did you do to my shampoo?” Harry shouts, brandishing the offending bottle like it’s a vial of poison. “Is this fucking mud? Did you honestly replace my shampoo with mud?”

“Not just your shampoo,” Louis says calmly, then loses it again when Harry visibly pales, storming back into the bathroom.

There’s a clatter from the other room, then Harry strides back in, holding two bottles of shampoo and a shower gel. Louis is momentarily sidetracked by how massive Harry’s hands are, then checks back in for the shouting part. (But seriously. They make Louis look like a pixie, it’s very frustrating.)

“I am going to kill you,” Harry hisses, and Louis pushes off the bed, throwing her phone on the bed.

“You know who I’m going to kill? Every bloody dolphin in the world, so I never have to wake up to them, ever again.”

“I was doing my morning yoga, and you decided to empty a swamp into my toiletries? What is wrong with you?”

“You never listen to dolphins during yoga,” Louis accuses, then realises that sounds a little crazy. “Niall told me you just did it to piss me off. And it wasn’t a swamp, it was more like a - a muddy river.”

Harry flushes, biting her bottomlip guiltily. “Okay, so maybe I did. But it was like self-defensive, I knew you were going to do something like this.”

“Just stay out of my way,” Louis orders, flipping Harry off.

Harry looks at her like she’s grown another head. “We share a cabin, I can’t exactly ‘stay out of you way.’ How about you stop doing shitty things like putting mud in my shampoo.”

“Okay, that took effort,” Louis argues, “I put dedication into that.”

Louis’ eyes flick to a tiny droplet of water sliding down Harry’s shoulder; it leaves a light water mark, skating down her pale skin and disappearing under her pink towel. Harry coughs, and Louis jumps, meeting Harry’s eyes. Harry’s eyes are still dark with anger, but there’s curiosity there, amber flecks shining.

Louis rips her eyes away, taking a few steps back. “Don’t act dumb, as if you thought sharing with me would be singing hymns and holding hands.”

“Just back off,” Harry snaps, hitching her towel up higher. “I’m going to wash this crud out my hair. Oh and by the way, my team are going to slaughter you at team challenge.”

Louis focuses on a point behind Harry’s ear, just long enough Harry starts to shuffle anxiously. She jabs one finger in that direction. “You’ve got a bit of pond slime.”

Harry hurls the shower gel bottle at her, slamming the bathroom door as she leaves. Louis catches it with one hand, grinning the whole time. That was an excellent prank, if she does say so herself.

Harry doesn’t say anything when she comes out the bathroom, just shoots Louis an extremely dirty look. Louis smiles sunnily at her, which only seems to enrage her more, which was the exact response she was looking for.

Half way through the night Louis hears Harry mutter, “Is that frogspawn?”, and she laughs so hard she almost falls out the bed.

 

 

 

-

 

 

 

Harry doesn’t exactly warm up to Louis during the rest of the week, and the feeling’s mutual as far as Louis’ concerned.

They have to make casts of animals tracks on Wednesday, and Harry manages to knock Louis’ on the floor. Harry swears she didn’t do it on purpose, but it somehow ends up in a blazing row about how much Louis wanted a copy of a framed badger paw.

“I didn’t know you liked badgers so much,” Ava tells her afterwards, and if she wasn’t six, Louis would swear she was being sarcastic.

On Thursday, they have to dissect an owl pellet, to see what owls eat. Louis didn’t even know what the fuck an owl pellet was, but she manages to flick a load of tiny mouse bones in Harry’s rusack. Harry’s reaction is hilarious, but it’s considerably less funny when Louis finds them in her bed that night.

Louis tells Liam about it on Friday morning, just to see Liam spit out all her orange juice. “You put bones in her bag?” Liam repeats, wiping her mouth a napkin. “Louis, what if she sues you, you can’t do that.”

“Did you miss the part where she put them in my bed?” Louis nudges Liam in the ribs, passing her another napkin. “She is just as bad.”

Liam rolls her eyes. “I don’t think you should be starting this, Lou. You have to share a cabin with her.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Louis asks, raising an eyebrow. “The sex you and Zayn are having better by fantastic, that’s all I’m saying.”

Liam wiggles a bit, then mumbles, “It is,” grinning when Louis slaps her on the back.

“I need to get laid,” Louis sighs, jabbing her hash brown with a fork. It’s true, she hasn’t had a man made orgasm in weeks. Or woman made. Whatever, either way she really needs to have sex.

Her eyes wander over to where Leigh Anne is sitting with Jesy, laughing quietly. Leigh Anne catches her looking and raises an eyebrow, eyes the colour of freshly cooled coffee. She smiles at Louis, slowly biting her lip, and Louis feels her stomach flip.

She looks away, making affirmative noises to whatever Liam is saying. Her eyes sweep the canteen and lands on Taylor and Harry sitting together. Taylor’s blond hair is curling around her face and Harry is tracing one curl, gently tugging on the loose strand,

It makes Louis’ stomach flip, all her nerves setting on edge, and she pushes her plate away. “Niall, do you want my egg?”

Niall nods agreeably, taking a bite, and Louis tries to immerse herself in Liam’s conversation. Liam’s chatting some shit about the time she dropped pasta on the floor, but her gaze keeps getting dragged back to Taylor and Harry, It’s like there’s a hook, wrapped round and caught on her ribcage, and it keeps pulling her back.

“Um, are Taylor and Harry together?” Louis blurts, then immediately cringes. “I mean, I want to know if I’m going to get any night time visitors.”

Niall shrugs, taking a huge mouthful of her breakfast. “I don’t know. I think they’re just friends, but I don’t think either would be opposed if they got naked.”

“Niall,” Liam snorts, and Louis’ laughter sounds fake to her own ears. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Thankfully, they all get to have a break at the weekend, because the weekend staff come to take over. As it’s only the first week, Louis spends all Saturday chilling in Zayn and Liam’s cabin, and working on her tan with Ashton. Next week, or the week after, when the desire to escape is crawling under her skin, they’ll have a party or go into town.

But right now, Louis’ happy to just relax.

“I love this weather,” Louis sighs, sliding her sunglasses up her nose. She’s stretched out in a sunny spot by the river, muscles loose and lovely, warm rays kissing her skin and carding through her hair. “I am going to be so tan. Lottie is going to cry.”

“I know,” Ashton groans, eyes closed against the sun’s glow. “I wish we could do this for the whole six weeks. I’m still picking glitter out of my underwear.”

Louis wants to kick him for that disturbing mental image, but she’s too content. Instead she just makes a noise of disgust. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

“Seriously, it looks like I’ve been having sex with Tinkerbell.”

“Please don’t say that around the children,” Louis murmurs, spreading her arms out like a star. She’s like, a sun goddess or something. They should start commemorating her on murals.

“Congrats on team challenge,” Ashton adds, and Louis blindly reaches for a fistbump. She taps his knuckles, then entwines their fingers lazily.

Winning team challenge on Friday had definitely made her week. The look on Harry’s face of pure dejection had made her entire year. The fact she has an entire Harry - free weekend, is just an added bonus.

Because Harry has obviously found someone else to torture, as she hasn’t been back at the cabin for the past two nights. It’s not like she’s left, unfortunately, because all her stuff is still there, but she’s obviously found somewhere else to bunk for the weekend.

Not that she’s over analyzing who that is, Louis thinks firmy, and squeezes Ashton’s hand. “Come on, let’s go get some food.”

 ****  
  
  
   
   
-

 

 

Another great thing about the weekend, is Louis finally gets laid.

At least Louis assumes that’s what’s happening, when Leigh Anne finds her at dinner on Saturday, and flutters her eyelashes at her. Maybe they’re just going on a nature trail, Louis might have this all wrong. Probably not, though.

“Alright, babe?” Louis asks softly, nudging their hands together. Leigh Anne looks up at her through her eyelashes, raising an eyebrow.

“Not bad,” Leigh Anne shrugs, linking their pinkies. “Don’t suppose your bunk is free, Tomlinson?”

And that’s what Louis likes about Leigh Anne; she doesn’t fuck around. If she wants something she goes for it, and they both know that it doesn’t mean anything more.

She also gives really good head, which Louis confirms later when her thighs are still trembling from coming. Leigh Anne licks her lips, smirking, and Louis can feel her pussy clench instinctively.

“God, Leigh,” Louis groans, tangling her hand in Leigh’s hair. She can taste herself on the other’s girl tongue, salty, wet, and she moans. Leigh grins into the kiss, already satisfied from when Louis had fingered her earlier. At least Louis hadn’t got any complaints, not when Leigh was arching her back in pleasure, Louis sliding one finger into the slick heat of her. “You’re killing me.”

“Not trying to, babes,” Leigh Anne smiles, pushing herself up. She slides her long legs over the bed, pulling her thong up over her delicate ankles. Louis is still splayed out on her covers, one hand fisted in the bed sheets.

“I’ll see you out,” she smirks, and laughs when Leigh Anne pats her cheek. Her muscles click when she stretches them out, and everything just feels good.

It’s nice, easy between them. Louis flings her shirt at her, and Leigh Anne kicks her bra away, and it’s just simple. Just sex, nothing less and nothing more.

“Should I schedule you in for next week?” Louis teases, jumping into an old pair of trackies. Leigh Anne smiles sadly at her, shaking her head, and Louis squeezes her hand impulsively.

“There’s someone back home,” she mumbles, and Louis doesn’t feel any jealousy, just fondness for the way her cheeks burn. “I think maybe - I might try with her when I get back.”

“Just love them and leave, god,” Louis jokes, then squeezes Leigh Anne when panic flashes on her face. “I’m kidding, love. Good luck with her. She’ll never be as good as the Tommo, but - “

“Shut up,” Leigh Anne giggles, shoving her shoulder. “She’s blond and tiny, but she could kick your arse. She called me last night, and just - I feel like I want to go for this.”

“Get out before you spread emotions everywhere,” Louis laughs, but she makes sure she gives her an extra big hug. “Seriously, good luck with her.”

“Thanks,” Leigh Anne smiles, and grabs Louis’ hands, swinging it as she heads for the door. “If it makes you feel better, that was a really great goodbye orgasm.”

“It was the best goodbye orgasm you will ever recieve,” Louis says solemnly, which is the exact moment the door swings open and Harry steps in.

To say the temperature drops would be an understatement. It’s like the air is replaced by liquid nitrogen, as far as Louis’ concerned. Harry takes one look at Leigh Anne and straightens like she’s going into battle. Her entire body locks up, and settles her face into a mask so quickly it makes Louis’ head spin.

“Excuse me,” Harry says, voice like ice, and pushes past Leigh Anne. She smacks into Louis’ shoulder as she goes, hard enough to bruise, and heads straight for the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

“What’s that about?” Leigh Anne asks, and Louis bites her cheek, blood pounding in her ears.

“I don’t know,” she admits, “she’s crazy. See you later, Leigh Anne.”

The cabin feels like a forbidden place when Leigh Anne leaves. Louis doesn’t want to step back inside, as if there’s an invisible line she can’t cross. Her step makes her hold her breath, and she keeps her eyes fixed on the bathroom door.

Harry slams the door open barely a minute later, and her whole demeanor is angry, the pure fury buzzing in the air. Louis has no idea what she did to piss Harry off so much, only that her whole body sings with frustration.

“What - “ Louis begins, but Harry ignores her and just walks straight out. Louis is left staring at the door like it will give her answers - which is doesn’t, and Louis is left to stew in her confusion.

45 minutes later, Harry strides back in. Louis’ about to say something, when she double takes, because Harry’s neck is wrecked. Purple and black and yellow have bloomed on her skin, a jigsaw of bruises and Louis just can’t stop staring.

“Problem?” Harry snaps, and Louis blinks.

She raises an eyebrow. “I don’t have a problem, but you clearly do if someone is bulldozing your neck each night.”

“Fuck off,” Harry mutters, and well. If that’s the way she wants to play it.

Louis can’t stop watching though, even if she berates herself each time. Everytime she thinks about someone kissing Harry’s neck, biting that pale skin, it makes her want to punch a wall. This pure wave of jealousy drowns her and she doesn’t know what to do with it.

It can't be because of Harry though. It’s got to be left over, post orgasm mushiness. It’s not like she cares who Harry sleeps with. Even if she does come back looking like a walking health hazard.

 ****  


-

 

Louis doesn’t wake to dolphin noises on Monday morning, which she guesses is something. Harry didn’t speak to her at all last night, so Louis did the same and definitely didn’t stare at the tiger bite on her neck.

She shivers as she swings her legs out of bed, toes curling on the floor. She stumbles across the room, desperate to get the taste of morning breath out of her mouth.

It’s only once she’s slid into the bathroom - still half asleep and dreaming of toothpaste - that she realises Harry’s in there already. Louis can’t be arsed to say anything, so she just grabs her own toothbrush, sloppily applying the toothpaste and jamming it in her mouth.

Harry’s brushing her teeth too, so Louis sneaks a look at her neck. Yep. Hickey from a pack of wolves still there.

Harry won’t budge over, so Louis just leans on her. And then she kind of gets distracted by how strong the toothpaste is, so after five seconds of blinking back tears, she realises she’s all pressed up against Harry’s side.

Harry’s warm, trails of heat sparking against Louis’ skin. She smells good, fruity and sweet, and Louis’ stomach does a little flip flop. Harry hums around her toothbrush, her lips rose pink and slick from the toothpaste.

“Move over, dick,” Louis mutters, because her skin is starting to get goosebumps for no apparent reason. Harry just grunts and ignores her, so Louis makes sure she spits out her toothpaste in a disgustingly obnoxious way.

She steps back and wipes her mouth with a towel, the fabric soft against her lips. Harry tugs the towel from her, and Louis swallows when their fingers knock together. She clears her throat. “You done with your temper tantrum? Though you were going to break the door, you slammed it so hard.”

Harry just stares at her, those glass green eyes impassive. Louis fights the urge to squirm, digging her nails into her palm. All she can hear is the drip, drip, drip of the tap, Harry’s viridescent eyes burning into her own.

Harry steps forward, and all of Louis’ senses go into overdrive. She’s a statue on the outside, muscles frozen in place, but her heart is slamming against her ribcage. Harry reaches out, one thumb tracing down the side of Louis’ face.

All the air rushes out of Louis’ lungs as Harry brings her thumb to her mouth. She slowly sucks it into her mouth, pink tongue swirling around the digit. It’s probably the most cliche move ever, but Louis’ whole body has lit up.

“Toothpaste,” Harry murmurs, breaking the silence. She doesn’t touch Louis as she walks out, and Louis can feel the rush of air between their bodies.

Louis swallows hard, correctly assumes she is screwed, and punches the bathroom mirror.

 

-

Louis understands Ashton’s glitter pain when crafts week rolls around. She’s supposed to be supervising, but in reality she could pass for one of the art projects. It’s no exaggeration when she says there’s glitter everywhere.

“I can’t do this,” James moans, flicking his pencil on the floor. Louis’ already had to stop him from jamming it up his nose. “Louis, do it for me.”

“You have glue,” Louis says, desperately shoving every glue related item towards him. “Be creative. Let your mind run free.”

James looks more than dubious. He begins to cover every inch of the rocket he’s supposed to be making with glue, to the point where it soaks through the cardboard. Oh well. Artistic license and that.

“He’s doing that wrong,” Harry sighs, wandering over. She manages to bang into a table as she goes, scowling when Louis snickers. “Well, not wrong because every child is individual but - “

“Ugh, shut up,” Louis moans. “It really doesn’t matter, yeah?”

Harry has little sprinkles of glitter on her face, glinting like diamonds on her cheekbones. She looks like a fairy, which is a fucking stupid thing to think, on recollection. “Fine.”

Harry glares at her, eyes slanted. Things have been awkward between them since the weekend, though Louis doesn’t know why. Harry being a homophobe is out, as is a burning jealousy of all the sex Louis has been having. Mainly because Louis hasn’t been having that much sex, and also because you don’t get a hickey that big by just holding hands.

“Lizzie, do you want to make a rocket?” Harry asks, smiling at the little girl. Lizzie wrinkles her nose.

“Isn’t that a boy toy?”

“Well, technically no toys are just for boys or girls,” Harry begins, and Louis crosses her arms. She wants to see this. “Girls - or boys - can play with whatever toys they want. If you want to make a rocket, you can make a rocket. If Luke wants to play with your Princess Elsa doll, he can play with her.”

“But only if he asks first,” Lizzie says solemnly, and Harry smiles so hard her dimples curve into her cheeks.

“Only if he asked first,” Harry repeats, and Lizzie happily grabs a cardboard rocket.

“Starting social justice early,” Louis comments, leaning back against one of the tables.

Harry flicks her an annoyed glance. “Gender specific toys are stupid.”

“I wasn’t having a go,” Louis scowls, “I was just saying.”

“Well, don’t just say,” Harry snaps, and storms off. Louis has no idea what her problem is, only that personally, she is never brushing her teeth again. Even the sight of a Colgate tube has her cheeks flushing.

Her life is slowly unravelling like the loose thread on her worn out leggings, and sharing with Harry Styles is not helping.

She manages to get through the majority of the art session without throwing a paint pot at Harry’s head. That is definitely a success. She’s going to tell Liam. Liam will proud and like, give her an attainment award or something. There’s an incredible amount of gunk on the floor by the end, so Louis grabs some paper towels and begins scrubbing.

“Can I go to lunch?” Ava asks, tugging on her shirt. She has glitter in her hair, paint on her nose, and a huge smile on her face. She holds up a painted thing, which is staying together from five tonnes of PVC and sheer will power. “Amy’s group has gone.”

Louis glances over to the door. “Hm, okay. You stay with Holly and Jessica okay? The lunch hall is right opposite from here, yeah? You don’t go anywhere else.”

“I won’t,” Ava promises, then giggles when Louis holds out her pinky. “Bye bye, Lou.”

Louis waves goodbye, lips tilting up. She groans when she bends down, her knees clicking. “Shit.”

“Need a hand?” Harry mumbles, wandering over. She kicks Louis’ shoe. “Nice to see you on your knees, Tomlinson.”

“Hilarious,” Louis snarks back, flipping Harry the middle finger. “Are you going to help or what?”

Harry rolls her eyes, but crouches down anyway. She winces as she bends, face paling. “Ow, my back.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Louis mutters, ignoring the flash of worry that burns through her.

Harry scrunches up a huge wad of paper towel, scrubbing at a purple stain. She wrinkles her nose, and Louis has a moment of awe, so cute, before she remembers they are mortal enemies, doomed to despise each other, ect. ect.

“What do you think this even is?” Harry shoves her paper towel in Louis’ face, Louis squealing and batting her hand away. “We didn’t even use red paint today.”

“Blood,” Louis answers casually, scrubbing her own part of the floor.

She smirks when Harry promptly drops the towel, pure panic flying across her face. “Oh my god, are you serious?”

“No, you twat,” Louis cackles. She lobs the towel at her. “It’s probably just paint, chill.”

“That wasn’t funny,” Harry scowls, “I genuinely thought it was blood.”

“You looked terrified,” Louis laughs again. “It’s blood, not acid. Well, it’s paint, but you get what I mean.”

Harry rolls her eyes. “Yeah, thanks for clearing that up.”

Louis sits back on her legs, raising one eyebrow. The sun is shining through the window, dappling across Harry’s face and sparking gold in her eyes. “You want to talk about clear? All you did last night was grunt at me.”

Harry shuffles, light pink dusting her cheeks. “Shut up.”

Louis smirks, liking the way Harry’s ducking her head and hiding her eyes. She should probably shut up, but it’s fun to wind Harry up, push her and push her until she explodes like a burning star, boiling and uncontrollable and beautiful.

“Who gave you the bruise?” Louis asks coyly, leaning forward and cocking her head. Harry squirms uneasily, biting her lip. “I mean, someone spent time on that. Someone must really like you, Styles, come on - “

“Shut the fuck up,” Harry snaps, and the tone changes, slips into something darker, grittier. Dirtier. Harry leans forward, and Louis’ eyes unconsciously drop to her bottom lip, red and bitten and slick.

“What about you and Leigh Anne?” Harry questions, and her voice makes Louis shiver. “How close was I to interrupting?” She leans in even closer, her pupils jet black with slivers of jade. “Was she between your legs? Or were you between hers?”

“I’ll tell if you do,” Louis murmurs. There’s a part of her that’s screaming this is a terrible, terrible idea, but the rest of her is transfixed on the fact Harry looks completely fuckable with bitten lips and blown eyes.. “Or do you want a reenactment? That desperate for it, Styles?”

Harry leans into her space, right into it, and all the air leaves Louis’ lungs. It’s like Harry’s everywhere, a rush of vanilla, her body pressed against Louis’. She ducks her head and ever so gently drags her teeth against Louis neck. Louis’ panting, squirming in place at the spike of pain, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Who’s desperate now, Tomlinson?” Harry murmurs, voice like gravel, and then shoves a handle of dirty paper towels down Louis’ back.

Louis shrieks, her mind spinning with this change of direction. Harry’s cackling, head thrown back, gorgeous and completely evil, and oh for fucks sake. Louis stands up angrily, yanking the towels out from under her shirt. “You absolute fucker, you - fuck, there’s paint on my back, shit!”

Harry’s laughing, curls tumbling around her. Louis is going to knock her fucking teeth out. “I don’t fuck girls in art cupboards, sweetheart.” She flashes Louis a sharp grin, white and so smug Louis wants to choke her. “I’ve got more class than that.”

“I am going to fucking kill you,” Louis announces, stomach churning. “I am going to fucking kill you.”

“Nope,” Harry sing songs, and flounces out, cascade of curls fluttering behind.

Louis watches her go, completely incredulous. She raises a hand to her neck, running her fingers over where she can still feel the ghost of Harry’s mouth. She is utterly, utterly fucked.

-

 

Zayn keeps blinking at her like like Louis is a particularly interesting toddler throwing a tantrum. She keeps fluttering her long, thick lashes, then cocking her head in polite interest.

“What do you mean has Liam ever done the weird vampire thing?” she says finally, and Louis groans, punching her in the arm.

“The weird vampire thing!” she exclaims, pointing to her neck for emphasis. “She like - scraped her teeth or something. I need to know if that’s normal.”

Zayn blinks at her. Louis is going to rip off her eyelashes. “Well, you’re not a nun. You’ve been in a relationship before. You dated Eleanor.”

“I didn’t despise Eleanor with all my heart,” Louis hisses. That had been the problem actually, the lack of emotion Louis had felt. Eleanor had been lovely, but Louis had mainly stuck around for so long because her dog was adorable.

“I miss Bruce,” Louis pouts, and Zayn shoots her a withering look.

“Please concentrate,” Zayn sighs, nudging the butter towards her. “Eat your soup, then explain this to me again.”

Louis grabs a knife, buttering her roll before dipping it into her tomato soup. Thank god Harry is not sitting at their table. It’s bad enough they share the same cabin. She’s probably gone to harass more innocent girls in art cupboards. “We were in the art room, right? And I asked her who gave her the massive hickey - “

“Why?” Zayn interjects gently, and Louis turns to her. “Why did you care, Lou?”

“Er, because she almost broke the door last night,” Louis retorts, “she’s crazy, Zayn, she saw Leigh leaving then went on a rampage.”

“She saw Leigh leaving?” Zayn asks in a strangled voice, and Louis squints at her. God, Zayn is so weird.

“Yeah. And then she assaulted me in the art room.” Louis sniffs, pulling her jumper sleeves on her hands. It’s chilly today. “Anyway, I know what to do.”

“Enlighten me,” Zayn says dryly, looking like she really doesn’t want to be enlightened. Louis is going to do it anyway.

“Gay chicken,” Louis answers promptly, and Zayn groans. “This is war, Zayn. I’m going to step up my homosexual game. Fuck no homo. All da homo. Don’t give a fuck.”

“Why is a game of gay chicken going to help you?” Zayn runs a hand through her hair, tugging on the ends. “Shit, where’s Liam, she’s good at this. Bro, seriously.”

“Because I can’t back down, Zayn!” Louis hisses, waving her spoon in the air. “It’s like in that film, where the guy wanted to be alpha of all those huskies, and he bit the big one on the ear!”

“Please, please don’t bite Harry on the ear.” Zayn burrows her face in her hands. Louis’ not convinced she won’t start rocking back and forth. “You are not a husky. Harry is not a husky. Are you sure you don’t just want an excuse to touch Harry up?”

Louis wrinkles her nose. “Of course not, like I would ever want to touch her.” She pauses. “Well, apart from during gay chicken. Because that’s like, a prerequisite. But not any other times.”

“This is going to end so badly,” Zayn mutters, “and for the record, me and Liam have never done the weird vampire thing, no. I’m sure that’s even a real thing.”

“Yes, well you and Liam are perfect, I’m sure,” Louis teases, “I’m sure you’ve already picked out the kid’s bedrooms.”

“Like you aren’t just as bad,” Zayn shoots back, little smile curving her lips. “You want a whole football team, don’t deny it.”

“I can’t,” Louis admits, exhaling wistfully. She does want a football team of tiny Tomlinsons one day. “Anyway, me and Harry have night shift today, so I’m going to do it then.”

Zayn doesn’t look convinced, but Louis doesn’t need her conviction. This is a great plan. She can’t let Harry think that she rattled her. Even if she did. A little bit. This is a matter of life or death, it’s gay chicken or bust.

-

Louis puts her game face on when she’s getting ready to go to night shift. She drags Liam over to give her a hand. Harry gone awol again, which is good, but also makes Louis’ head hurt for some reason.

“Where does she even go?” Louis moans, trying to apply her mascara without stabbing herself in the eye. Liam leans back on the bed, crinkling her brow. “I swear she knows everyone at this camp. Ed was lapping up the attention yesterday.”

“You realise how jealous you sound, right?” Liam answers, and Louis flips her off.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Zayn,” Louis sniffs, pulling her hair into a loose bun. She pulls some of the strands out, so little honey coloured tendrils drift around her face. “Don’t be so cynical. This is for hate purposes alone.”

“Another thing,” Liam says, pulling her snap back off her head and turning it round. “Explain the gay chicken thing to me. I don’t get it. Are you making her dinner?”

Louis stares at her. “What do you mean?”

Liam shrugs. “Like, making her drumsticks or something.”

Louis blinks. “Have you never played gay chicken?”

Liam shakes her head, and Louis grins. She couldn’t pass up this perfect opportunity, so she struts over to the bed. Liam glances at her nervously, then begins to shuffle backwards when Louis smirks at her.

Louis flops down on the bed, pressing her legs against Liam’s. “Right, so basically, you see how long you can touch someone for, until they get antsy and run away.”

She dances her fingers up Liam’s thigh, cackling when Liam jumps about a mile. “Louis,” Liam whines, smacking her hand away and shuffling over. “Dont do that to Harry. You can’t touch people without their permission.”

Liam looks little frightened, hazel eyes round and reproachful. Louis smacks a kiss to her forehead, wandering back over to the mirror. “Calm down, she did it first. It’s a game, Li.”

“Oh yeah, the weird vampire thing.” Liam squints at her. “Me and Zayn have never done that. But then again, I’ve not put mud in Zayn’s shampoo. So maybe we’re the weird ones .”

“That’s a fair point, Liam, but next time I’d rather you’d fuck off.” Louis tugs on the hem of her shirt. “Do my collarbones look good? Like, would you lick them?”

“I don’t feel comfortable answering that,” Liam answers, eyeing her as if she’s crazy. “Um, yes? You look very nice.”

“Good enough,” Louis shrugs, grabbing her jacket. She doesn’t know how chilly it’s going to get tonight, and she can always do a little strip tease if not. She fluffs her hair one last time, before blowing Liam a kiss. “Come on, Payno, walk me to my post.”

“Fine,” Liam sighs, rolling her eyes. “Don’t take this too far, Lou, yeah?”

Louis smiles at her. “Would I really do that?”

-

Louis just resists the urge to spread her legs. Just. Instead she sits on the porch of one of the empty cabins, looking out. The sun is hanging low in the sky, blacks and purple streaking the huge canvas of spaces.

She leans her head back against the wooden door, closing her eyes for a moment. She can hear the wind rustling through the trees, the soft crash of the lake behind her. It’s only when she hears the patter of footsteps that she opens her eyes.

“Hello,” Harry greets cautiously, running the corner, and Louis’ heart kicks in her chest. Harry’s curls are held back by a silky, sky blue scarf. She’s in cut off shorts, and her camp t shirt, legs tan and long in the last glow of the sinking sun.

“Hello, Harriet,” Louis smirks, and Harry’s eyes narrow to green slits.

“What are you doing?” she asks suspiciously, flopping down.

She’s so gangly, Louis notes, watching Harry’s fold her ridiculous limbs underneath her. Harry is still eyeing her suspiciously, scooting to the end of the wooden porch. “What have you done?”

“Nothing,” Louis says sweetly, batting her eyelashes. Harry looks a little stunned, so Louis mentally high fives herself for using Maybelline. “Nice evening, right?”

Harry doesn’t reply, staring at her still. She looks a bit like a frog. “Seriously, what are you doing?” She starts looking around, as if Louis’ got a water gun she’s going to whip out somewhere. Damn, Louis should have done that. “Is something going to jump out at me?”

Louis just shakes her head, keeping a smirk dancing around her lips. The more time Louis leaves it, the more agitated she’s getting. Louis has to bite back a laugh when Harry starts drumming her heels.

Louis' a firm believer in waiting for the right moment, so her attention is snagged when Harry sits up suddenly. She follows her gaze to where a blond girl is coming out of one of the cabins.

“Shit, it’s Cara,” Harry mutters, and Louis’ interest is definitely piqued now.

“Who’s Cara?” Louis demands, sitting up. Harry shoots her an irritated glance, jutting out her chin. “Wait, do you like her?”

“Don’t be childish,” Harry sighs, rolling her eyes. “I’d quite like to shag her.”

Louis snorts, taken aback. “Woah, put it all out there, Styles.”

Harry flashes her a look, and it’s so dirty it makes her heart race. Her dimples curve in her cheeks, and her skin glows with confidence. “I like sex. I like fucking girls, and I like being fucked by girls, and I don’t care what people think about that. And I’d like to fuck Cara.”

“Well.” Jesus, Harry really can’t say fuck again, it’s not good for Louis’ labido. “Maybe she doesn’t want to fuck you.”

Harry ignores her, and it’s then that Louis realises exactly how she can get back at Harry. Cara begins to wander over, waving and Louis subtly scoots closer to Harry. She waits until Cara is in eye view, then puts her hand on Harry’s thigh.

Harry jumps, glaring at her. “What are you doing?” she hisses, but Louis just tightens her grip on Harry’s thigh.

“Hey, Harry,” Cara greets, smiling at them. Her eyes fall to Louis’ hand on Harry’s leg, and a small crinkles appears between her eye.

“Hi, Cara,” Louis gushes, effectively drowning out anything that Harry was going to say. “It’s a nice night, isn’t it?”

Cara looks at her oddly. Harry looks at her like she wants to bathe in her blood. “Um, yeah. Haz, you coming out this weekend?”

Harry smiles, the flirty one she turned on Taylor in the first week and no. Louis is not having any of that.

“We were thinking about it, weren’t we, pumpkin?” Louis says loudly. Harry is trying desperately to move her thigh away, but Louis just grips on tighter, digging her nails in. She smiles indulgently at Cara. “This one is a bit of a handful, you’ll have to watch your shots, sweetie.”

Louis has to choke down laughter at the murderous glint in Harry’s eyes. Cara looks vaguely traumatised. Oh well. Harry frowns, wrenching her thigh free. She turns back to Cara, grinning. “First round is on me - “

She cuts off, gaping at Louis. Louis just beams at her, twirling the silk headband she pulled from Harry’s hair around her fingers. The fabric is soft and smooth, slipping through her hands. “Awe, look at your curls.”

She resists the urge to pull a Regina George and tell Harry she looks sexy with her hair pushed back. It’s a close thing.

“Remember that time you straightened it?” Louis improvises. She needs to interject a cute memory to really hammer it home.

“No,” Harry says through gritted teeth, grabbing her scarf back. “Can’t say I do.”

“She looked precious,” Louis coos, turning back to Cara. “Very different of course, but still gorgeous.”

Harry looks as though she’s having an aneurysm. “Shut up, Louis.”

“Awe, my little fighter,” Louis giggles, and ruffles Harry’s hair in the most obnoxious way possible. It’s the tipping point for Cara, eyes widening as she glances between them.

“Oh, I didn’t realise you two were - “ she mumbles, gesturing between them.

“We’re not - “ Harry begins.

“Happily in love,” Louis finishes loudly, flinging an arm around Harry. She may be choking her. Harry’s head is somewhere near her armpit.

“That’s adorable!” Cara squeals, and Louis can feel Harry’s groan reverberate against her skin. “When did you get together?”

“It just kind of happened,” Louis smiles serenely, trying not to wince as something digs into her arm. Did Harry just bite her?

“How sweet,” Cara beams, “congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Louis says, as graceful as a queen, and waits until Cara’s left before she cracks up.

“What the fuck was that?” Harry scowls, finally breaking free. She shoves Louis away, cheeks scarlet and hair mussed. Louis can’t stop laughing, bending over until she can’t breathe.

“Your face,” Louis laughs, holding her ribs. “You looked so pissed off, oh my god.”

“Cara thinks we’re together,” Harry snaps, “she’s never going to get with me now, you dick.”

“I know” Louis hiccups, and the pure fury on Harry’s face sets her off again. Harry crosses her arms grumpily, pouting, which only makes it better.

“You are such a twat,” Harry moans, glaring at her. “Is this because of the thing this morning?”

Louis just raises an eyebrow, beaming, and Harry scowls. “Oh my god, it is.”

“Maybe she’ll tell everyone else,” Louis says dreamily, coasting off Harry’s growing rage. “She might tell Taylor. She loves a good romance, she’s never sleeping with you again.Oh my god, Harry.” Louis turns to her, widening her eyes. “Harry, _you are never getting laid again.”_

Harry shoves her off the porch of the cabin. Louis bangs up all her ribs, but she’s laughing so hard she doesn’t even care.

 

 

-

 

 

Niall wins the team challenge that week, which shocks everyone. She just tosses her blond hair and blinks blue eyes, which Louis is beginning to suspect aren’t as guileless as she pretends. Louis needs to get some shots down her, then trick her into spilling all her secrets.

Luckily, they’re all going out to town this weekend. When they have their days off Liam drives them into the nearest town, and they all see how long a hangover can last before they black out on Monday.

She gets ready at Zayn’s Friday night, whooping as she lobs her heels at her. Zayn looks gorgeous as ever, eyes dark with eyeliner, in a backless white dress. It makes her skin glow, and Louis is a little transfixed by the jut of her collarbones.

So is Liam, by any observation, eyes dark and appreciative. Louis lobs her other heel at her, smirking when it hits Liam in the arm. “Fuck off, Louis,” Liam snaps, but still lets her curl her hair.

“Remember when I didn’t have to do this?” Louis says fondly, tugging on one curl. “You were as curly as Styles a year ago. Right little perm.”

“That’s one,” Zayn mutters, and Liam high fives her. Louis’ about to ask, but then she needs help zipping her dress up, and gets distracted.

She looks good, she’s not going to lie. Her red dress clings to her curves, especially her arse and her boobs. Her hair is fluffy and falling around her shoulders, and her heels add about two inches to her already petite height.

“You look good, Lou,” Liam beams, in her own cut off shorts and crop top.

Louis pokes her belly. “How do you get so fit, Payno? You’re like Captain America.”

Liam bats her head away, but she smiles so hard she gets crinkles around her eyes. She slings an arm around Louis’ shoulders, giggling all the way to the car. Louis leans her head against Liam’s, linking their pinkies. “You getting trashed tonight, Payno?”

“Nope, I’m driving,” Liam apologies, and Louis rolls her eyes. “Next time, promise.”

“You better,” Louis mumbles, and Liam nods agreeably.

“Wait a sec,” Liam calls when they get to the car, sliding the keys out of her clutch. “We have to wait for Harry and Niall.”

“Um, what?” Louis snaps, pushing Liam off her. “Why are we taking them?”

“They wanted to come,” Liam pouts, widening her eyes. “It’s their first time at camp, we can’t leave them behind.”

“Louis, get in the car,” Zayn orders, raising an eyebrow when Louis wheels to stare at her. “Then you can look as disinterested and suave as hell when Harry clambers in.”

Louis considers this, then smacks Liam in the boob. “See, Zayn gets it,” she hisses, as Liam is double over and wheezing. “You’re such a prick, Liam.”

Louis does a double take when Harry gets in. She was going to try and be aloof and shit, but Harry is wearing a sheer shirt with no bra.

“Are you wearing no bra?” Louis asks incredulously, heart knocking against her ribs. Harry’s eye makeup makeup is smoky and dark, make her eyes gleam. She’s in tiny denim shorts and a silky dark shirt - which is just this side of translucent. Louis can make out the curve of her breast and looks away, cheeks flaming.

“What a tart,” Niall cackles, climbing into the car. Thankfully she sits between Harry and Louis, because Louis doesn’t think her temperature is going down anytime soon. “Haz, you wear such ridiculous stuff. Lou, you look nice.”

“Thanks, so do you.” Niall’s in a short blue dress, her hair in a messy bun and dangly blue earrings. She looks cute, and Louis feels a surge of protectiveness. She knocks her shoulder against Niall’s. “You doing shots tonight, Irish?”

Niall immediately launches into a tirade about her home country, waving her arms around and babbling away. At some point Rather Be comes on, and after a lecture on safe driving Liam turns it up.

They’re all bellowing the lyrics seconds later, the lights of the street flashing past them like shooting stars. Louis can feel Niall’s warm body pressed against her, can see Liam and Zayn singing to each other in the front. She catches Harry’s eyes, and they’re so warm and open it makes her heart sing. She turns away, something gold blooming in her chest, and grabs Niall’s hand as they shout the chorus.

Liam pulls the car over and they all slide out. “Where we going?” Niall asks cheerfully, unclicking her seatbelt. “Irresistible, Liam said.”

Louis nods, shivering when her feet in the pavement. She can’t wait to get into the club, warm herself up with some shots of sambuca. “Yeah, it’s one of the only gay friendly ones around here. Better safe than sorry, mate.”

Niall’s face crumples, uncharacteristic anger flashing in her eyes. “I swear, some people are such cunts.”

Louis cackles, surprised by the sudden venom in her tone. They shuffle forward in the queue, Liam, Zayn and Harry a little way forward. “Well, yeah. They are. I can’t tell you the amount of times some guy has offered to have a threesome with me and some girl.”

“What, like you’re a football game?” Niall snorts, hands on her hips. “Wanting to watch ya like you’re some kind of entertainment.”

“Exactly,” Louis scowls, accepting Niall’s fist bump. “Or they assume they can flip you. Like, you’re not really gay, you’re just waiting for some sweaty, gross man to come rescue you.”

“Kick him the balls more like,” Niall snorts, and Louis gives her an impromptu hug. “Course, Haz gets it worth than me.”

“She does?” Louis repeats, the hair rising on her arms. It’s cold out here, but she also feels uneasy at the idea of talking about Harry’s past. She remembers the flash of pain on Harry’s face that day in the woods, and her stomach flips.

“Well, she’s stunning, ain’t she?” Niall says casually, looking at Harry fondly. “Gets plenty of dicks hitting on her. Telling she’s too pretty to be gay. That’s it’s just a phase. They’ll take her home and change her mind.”

“That’s disgusting.” Louis sets her jaw, grinding her teeth. Sadly, it’s not that surprising but still. It doesn’t make her feel any better. Doesn’t fill the hollow ache behind her breastbone, the longing to scoop Harry up and hide her from all those people. “What does she say?”

“Gives ‘em a lecture on harmful stereotypes perpetuated by misogynist and homophobic representation in the media,” Niall recites. She wiggles her nose. “Then she throws her drink at them.”

“A winning combination,” Louis grins, and the current under her skin settles a little.

They flash their IDs at the bouncer and walk in. Louis can feel blood beginning to stir; it’s loud, the music thumping, girls shrieking at each other, orders being shouted at the bars. It’s an explosion of colour, the lights flashing, dresses in all shades, vibrant cocktails being knocked to the floor.

“I’m getting a drink,” Liam yells, one hand slung around Zayn’s waist. Louis smirks at the way her hand is splayed against Zayn’s back. Liam is more possessive than she’d let on. “Coke for me, obviously, but do you want anything?”

“Get me something with vodka,” Louis orders, and Liam just smirks.

“Want a drink, babe?” Liam asks Zayn, and Zayn nods, kissing her chastely on the lips. They part and Liam turns to Niall and Harry. “You two? I’ll get the first round.”

Niall orders a pint, but Harry pauses, chewing on her lip. “Um. I don’t know. They have cocktails, yeah? Can I have a sex on the beach? No, wait - a woo woo. No - “

“Jesus, pick one, Styles,” Louis groans, elbowing her in the ribs. She realises after what a terrible idea that action was; Harry’s skin is warm, even through the fabric, and she came uncomfortably close to touching a, ahem, higher up body part.

“Get the fruitiest, sweetest, most disgusting concoction of sugar you can find,” Louis orders, smirking at Harry. “That’s the kind of crap you like, yeah?”

Harry glares at her, shadows dancing across her face. She looks almost ethereal, pale, smooth expanse of skin, tumbling jet black curls, and Louis feel something pull in her gut.

“Shut up,” Harry scowls, shaking her head. “I like cocktails. They’re fun and colourful.”

“They’re fun and colourful,” Louis mocks, lowering her voice to match Harry’s slow drawl. She doesn’t know what’s wrong with her. It’s like a swarm of butterflies have been released into her stomach, making her nervous and jumpy. Talking to Harry is like standing on the edge of a cliff; the tingle in your hands, your toes, your stomach, the urge to dance on the boundary, just to see if you could fall.

Harry’s picked up on it, she can tell, can sense the rising tension between them, twisting and dancing and spinning. Her eyes darken and she licks her lips, pink tongue tracing the cupid’s bow. Louis’ eyes don’t leave Harry’s as Liam wanders back over, slamming the drinks onto the table.

“Queue was crazy,” Liam announces cheerfully, Zayn tucked into her side. “Bartender was nice though. Saw Leigh Anne earlier, Lou. You going to go over?”

Louis can feel Harry shift beside her, then the slow trace of a finger down her back. The movement is fleeting, as light as a butterfly flexing its wings, but it was definitely Harry, and she can feel heat swirling low in her stomach.

She downs her drink in one go, alcohol burning her throat. She swallows and wipes her mouth with one hand. “Thanks, Li. Might go see her in a bit.”

The look Harry gives her sends shivers through her whole body. “Taylor’s here as well, Harry,” Liam adds, and Louis’ head snaps up.

Harry’s eyes gleam in the dark of the club, smirk twisting her lips. “Really? Might go say hello.” Louis locks eyes with her, raising one eyebrow. Harry doesn’t look away, challenging her, and she can feel her throat flush.

“Shots!” Niall cheers, and it’s like coming up for air. Louis looks away, focusing on Niall’s bottle blond locks to calm her pulse. “Come on, Tommo. You promised.”

She lets Niall drag her off, sparkly blue nails leaving glitter on her skin. She and Niall do tequila shots, then sambuca, then it all begins to blur. Her mouth feels salty from the shoots, her lips wet and throat burning. Niall pulls her onto the dancefloor, giggling into each other’s necks and hugging each other’s hips. It’s nice, doesn’t mean anything, and Louis feels the alcohol kickstart her system, making her clingy and grabby.

“Going to the loo!” Niall shouts after a while, and Louis grabs her hand, frowning.

“Don’t go alone, Nialler.”

Niall beams, and Louis thinks she looks so pretty so she tells her. “So pretty, pretty Nialler. Smiley Nialler. Nialler smiler.” She presses her tongue to the side of her cheek, thoughts dancing away like a cloud pushed by the wind. “Fuck, I’m so drunk.”

“I’ll get Liam and Zayn to come,” Niall promises, vowels slurred, and maybe she’s a bit drunk too. “Ha, sex jokes.”

“They’re probably already banging,” Louis yells. She begins to jump up and down, because this is his favourite song. “I love this song!”

“I’ll be right back!” Niall shouts at her, and then she wiggles off in the crowd. Louis is all alone, which makes her sad, but then a familiar face waves at her from the crowd.

“Leigh Anne!” Louis shouts, stumbling over her. She almost falls over with her heels, grabbing Leigh Anne’s arm. “You look so fit!”

“Thanks babe,” Leigh Anne laughs, grabbing her forearms. “You’re a bit drunk, yeah?”

“Little bit,” Louis shrugs, “this is my favourite song, come dance with me!”

Leigh lets her drag onto the dancefloor, carefully placing her hands on Louis’ hips. It’s clingy rather than sexual. Louis puts her arms around Leigh’s neck and sways side to side, humming along to the song.

“Why did he change it?” Louis shouts, pouting when the track changes. “That was my favourite song! Put it back on! That’s your fucking job, you fucking loser!”

“Louis, shut up,” Leigh Anne giggles, putting one hand over her mouth. “Shush, you. You are very, very drunk.”

“True,” Louis says dully, a huge wave of sadness suddenly swallowing her. “Leigh, you used to give me really good orgasms.”

“Same, babe,” Leigh answers, cheeks flushed with pink. “But you’ll find someone else.” She crinkles her nose, and Louis frowns. Quick face movements make her head hurt. “I think you already had.”

Louis shakes her head, stopping when it makes the room spin. “No, not Neil.” Did she say that right? Yeah, definitely. “Neil is too blond. And tiny. She’s like a sister. But not my real ones. A non- real one.”

“Hm, okay,” Leah laughs, “but Harry’s been staring holes into the back of your head for the last three minutes. Might want to rethink.”

“Harry?” Louis blinks, and spins around to look. True enough, she can make out a familiar head of curls. Except Harry’s not looking at her, she’s chatting to Taylor. For some reason, this makes Louis really want to punch Taylor, and she likes Taylor so it’s making her head woozy.

“I need to talk to Harry,” Louis announces, patting Leigh Anne on the head. Leigh Anne just nods, something in her eyes Louis can’t discern.

She downs another shot before she heads over, palms suddenly sweating. She sobers up a little as she pushes through the crowd, all of her nerves lighting up at once. She takes a deep breath, stomach flipping when Harry turns around.

“Dance with me,” Louis demands, so quick she almost slurs, like the words are fighting to slide off her tongue.

Harry raises an eyebrow, staring at her. Her makeup has smudged, dark prints under her eyes and she looks even more beautiful. She looks unattainable, and Louis suddenly feels sick at the thought Harry might say no.

The moment hangs, and Louis feels bile in her throat, a pounding in her ears that she shouldn’t have done, that was a terrible idea, that she should have said no -

 **-** and Harry links their sweaty hands and pulls her into the crowd.

Harry’s confident, more so than Louis is, and she pulls Louis close to her. Louis gasps at the surge of warmth, as if Harry’s skin is fire and all she wants to do is burn, burn, burn. She fists her hands in Harry’s hair, tugging her closer.

Harry slides her hands down Louis’ back, and squeezes Louis’ arse. She begins to move with the movement, grinding against her, and Louis swallows hard. It feels so good, Harry’s hot body against hers, her breath hot and washing across Louis’ pulse point.

Harry slow fits a thigh between Louis’ legs and Louis gasps, shocks going through her whole body. She’s so wet she can feel it, and she’s panting as she slowly grinds against Harry’s thigh. There’s the thrill of knowing anyone could see them, see Louis panting and writhing as she rocks against Louis’ thigh.

“Thought you didn’t like me, Tomlinson,” Harry mutters, and it’s how fucked her voice is that brings Louis back to present. A dim part of her remembers this is a game, and she pulls back, ignoring her trembling thighs.

“As if you can talk,” she murmurs, and slowly runs her hand over Harry’s sheer shirt. Harry’s so fucking responsive, letting out a tiny whimper that makes her blood throb.

The shirt is silky under her hands, and she can see the stiff peaks of Harry’s nipples through her sheer shirt. Her fucking sheer shirt, and Louis’ fingers slowly climb up the ladder of Harry’s ribs.

“You like this, don’t you?” Louis murmurs, and Harry shudders. It makes Louis feel so powerful it’s dizzying, heady, that she can make Harry feel like this. “Like me playing with you, where anyone could see. It’s why you wore this fucking shirt, right?”

Harry whines, and Louis glances at her face. Harry looks fucking gone, lips bitten and cherry red, pupils blown and eyes glassy, hair tumbling around her as her chest rise and falls.

Louis’ so turned on it hurts, her underwear soaked. She slides her hand higher, stopping just at the soft swell of Harry’s breast. She slowly circles Harry’s nipple through the fabric, eyes squinting as she makes out dark shadows.

“Got a tattoo, babe?” Louis breathes, and pinches Harry’s nipple between her fingers. Harry keens, jolting forward, and her thigh slides effortlessly right against Louis’ pussy. Louis gasps, entire body clenching with the sudden rush of pleasure.

She moans, eyes fluttering, and that’s when Harry crushes their mouths together. It’s not pretty, or sweet, or soothe. It’s biting and hard and fast. Harry tastes sweet, like the drink she had, sweet and delectable and intoxicating. She bites down on Louis’ bottom lip, the pain rocking through her and making her whine. In retaliation Louis licks into Harry’ mouth, sliding their tongues together whilst cupping her breast.

It’s so, so hot. Louis feels as though she’s burning up, wrapping around Harry like a lifeline. She’s flicking over Harry’s nipple with her thumb, one hand tugging on her hair. Harry’s hands are everywhere, her arse, her hair, the slow slide between shoulder and hips, so steady it’s almost too much.

“Louis!” There’s a shout and then someone’s pulling her back. Louis feels the rush of air between, like a cool drink on a hot day, sudden and bracing. She whimpers, eyes focusing on Liam’s face.

“Babes, we’re going,” Zayn sighs, grabbing both her hands. Louis blinks down at them, then back at Zayn. “It’s super late, club’s closing soon.”

Louis glances at Harry. It’s like being punched in the face. Harry looks completely fucked, lips red and raw, shirt crumpled, nipples clearly visible through the fabric. She meets Harry’s eyes, all black but a ring of jade, and feels a throb between her legs. Shit, she wants to fuck her.

“You do?” Harry and Zayn say at the same time, and fuck, did Louis say that out loud?

“You did,” Zayn mutters, pulling her along. “Niall, grab your monkey please.”

The journey from the club to the car is a blur. At one point Louis reckons it’s a good idea to feel Harry’s boobs again. They are very nice boobs, to be fair, but Niall won’t let her. Then Harry wants to grab Louis’ arse - which Louis is very, very here for - but Niall stops them. It is very sad and tragic. Louis might cry.

“Get in the car,” Zayn orders, and suddenly they’re outside, cool wind whipping round their faces. “Louis, get in the car now - stop, don’t grab Harry’s bum, Harry, no - “

Louis slides into her seat, staring at her seatbelt until Niall does it for her. Maybe Niall isn’t such a terrible person after all. Liam has turned up at some point, but she is too far away. In the driver seat. Too far.

“Liii,” Louis whines, making grabby hands. “Li, I think I drank too much.”

“I’ll get you some water later,” Liam promises, lovely, warm, strong, noble Liam. “Don’t be sick in my car.”

Huh. Louis sits back in her seat, frowning at her reflection. “Harry?”

Harry cracks open one eye, head against the seat. Louis really wants to have sex with her. “Yes, babe.”

“I still hate you, ‘kay?” Louis mumbles, and promptly throws up.


	4. Chapter 4

Louis wakes up and wishes she hadn’t.

Her mouth feels as though something’s died in it. Possibly a skunk. Her head is currently being hit repeatedly with a jackhammer, and her stomach is pitching and rolling like a boat in a storm.

Conclusion: her body fucking hates her.

She cracks one eyes open and hisses, the light from the window burning her eyes. Maybe she’s a vampire. Maybe she’s the twatty one from Twilight, and her skin is going to get that glowing acne thing. Fuck. It’s too early for this.

“Leeyum,” Louis groans, because she’s got to be around somewhere. In the darkness of all hangovers, there is Liam. There has to be, or Louis is going to decompose right here.

Soft fingers card through her hair, gently parting the strands. Louis exhales in relief, then regrets it because dead skunk breath.

She opens her eyes slowly, clearing her throat. “Please say you have tea.”

“I have tea,” Liam promises, looking totally put together, the absolute bitch. She’s sitting on the bed. arms crossed, and Louis physically feels sick at how immaculate her ponytail is.

“I hate you,” Louis swears. “Wait, is that Yorkshire? I’m going to fucking marry you.”

“Have to fight me for it,” Zayn mumbles, stumbling into Louis’ eyeline. She doesn’t look half as rough as Louis feels, hair fluffy and face free of makeup. She collapses onto the bed next to Liam, burrowing her face in her shoulder.

“Don’t start with that, I’ll vomit,” Louis mutters. She sits up, wincing when her head throbs. The mug of tea is warm in her hands, and she wraps her fingers around it. “How drunk was I last night?”

“You grinded on Harry,” Zayn says flatly, and Louis spits out all of the hot liquid.

“Shit.” Louis stares at her, scrubbing her mouth with her hand. “Shitting fuck, I did, didn’t I?”

“Very enthusiastically,” Zayn confirms, and Louis would smack her if she wasn’t sure the movement would make her puke.

“Hard to tell where you ended and she began,” Liam adds, and Louis groans.

Shit. Shit, she did. She can remember it now, hazy snatches swimming into focus. She can remember Harry’s mouth, wet and warm against hers, biting and possessive. The feeling of Harry’s hands on her skin ghosts over her arms, and she swallows. Shit, shit, shit.

“I don’t even like her.” Louis looks at Zayn with pleading eyes, tugging her greasy hair with her hands. “She does my fucking head in. And we were practically fucking on the dance floor. Fuck, what if I was possessed?”

Liam squints. “Possessed as in ghosts and shit?” Louis slams her tea cup down. Some of the liquid sloshes over the rim, burning her fingers and leaving them numb.

“That is the only explanation,” Louis says hollowly, clenching her eyes shit. “Zayn, help, I’ve been possessed.”

Zayn stares at her. “You had your hand up her shirt.”

“Oh god. What do I do? I have to share a fucking room with her!” Louis hisses, shoving off the covers. She feels hot, trapped, burnt by the press of Harry’s lips last night. “Wait, maybe she can’t remember!”

Yes. Yes, denial is the way to go. “She was drunk, right? She was smashed, Harry won’t remember anything.” She trails off at Liam’s concerned look. “What?”

“If someone had kissed me like that, I don’t think being drunk would matter,” Liam ventures, peering at Louis worriedly. “Honestly, do you like her, Lou?”

“What? No!” Liam is giving her big, sympathetic eyes, like Louis is baby deer abandoned in the woods, and Liam’s come to rescue her and tell her deer mum is dead. Harry would kill her deer mother, Louis has no doubt. Fuck, she needs to sober up. “I don’t, I just want to have sex with her. “

Wow. Louis just wants to have sex with her. Which isn’t that bad. She’s a eighteen year old lesbian, it’s not her fault her drunken vagina can’t tell the difference between emotionally stable and hippy, yoga freak.

“Maybe you should just shag her,” Zayn suggests calmly, as if that isn’t the stupidest idea in the history of fucked up plans. “Get it out of your system.”

“Um, maybe you should shut up,” Louis snaps, crossing her arms. “Are you on crack? I can’t shag her, that would make everything worse. Then she’d be all smug, swanning around with a stupid smirk on her face.”

“I think Zayn’s right,” Liam shrugs. Louis kicks her in the shin.

“Shut up, Liam, you don’t count. You’re sleeping with Zayn, your opinion is invalid or something.”

“Don’t be petty,” Zayn snaps, curling her hand into Liam’s shirt. “Look, Louis, just tell Harry it was a mistake. But if you do, you can’t do anything else with her, okay? Because that’s not fair.”

The idea of ‘not doing anything else’ with Harry, ever again, makes Louis feel strangely bereft, her chest squeezing painfully. She curls in on herself, pulling her knees up and resting her head on them. “I don’t want to do anything else with her. I was drunk, okay?”

It comes out harsh and bratty, like it always does when Louis feels cornered. Liam just smiles at her gently. She never takes offence, not in stupid situations like this, when Louis is tired and unsure and aching.

“Drink your tea,” Liam orders, nudging the cup towards her. “Then have some aspirin. Then go have a nap, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” Louis mumbles.

Liam smacks a kiss to her head, standing up. She brushes off her jeans, heading for the bathroom. “I’ll get you some aspirin, okay? Babe, your head okay?”

Zayn shakes her head, amber eyes alert and trained on Louis. She squeezes Louis’ hand, sliding their fingers together. “Don’t be a twat about this, yeah?”

Louis avoids her eyes, staring at the floor. She traces the swirls of grain in the wood. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Zayn just pulls her closer for a cuddle, because Zayn is the best.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis hovers around the door to the cabin like a moth around a lamp. She chews her bottom lip nervously, pulling down the sleeves of her jumper. Zayn had let her borrow her toothpaste, and the taste of mint is sharp at the back of her throat.

She straightens her jumper and barges in, the door squeaking obnoxiously. There’s little butterflies in her stomach and she can’t fight the flush climbing up her neck.

Harry is lying curled up on her bed, her face pressed into the pillow. She seems to be snoozing, so Louis inhales deeply. This is it, Tomlinson. She can do this. No more groping in clubs. No more weird vampire teeth scraping. No more pretending to be a couple to piss off other girls. She is shutting off this pelvic sorcery, right now.

She tiptoes across the room, clenching her fists. This is it. Louis is going to give her a piece of her mind. The non-sexual part. What’s that, the adrenal cortex? Shite, she should have done A Level psychology.

“Harry,” Louis says loudly. Harry doesn’t stir, and Louis can feel irritation prickle under her skin. Trust Harry to be asleep when she wants to have a fight. So fucking rude.

“Harry,” Louis repeats, louder this time. Harry snuffles, then lifts her head from the pillow.

Louis freezes, heart beating like a jack rabbit. “Have you - have you been crying?”

Harry sniffs. “No.”

It comes out muffled and slurred. Harry’s eyes are pink and puffy, her lashes thick with tears. Her hair is pulled up in a messy bun, curls everywhere, and she still looks so lovely Louis’ stomach swoops. It all but nose dives when Harry scrubs her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks cautiously, mouth dry. Shit, what did she do? What if she made Harry cry? Louis would be happy if she rotted in hell for all and eternity, but she didn’t mean to make her _cry_.

Harry pulls her blankets up around her, ducking her head. “I’m - I don’t - “

Fucking hell, what did Louis do? “Harry, what - are you - do I - “ She swallows. Harry looks utterly miserable. “Harry, do you want me to get Niall, I - “

“I’m on my period,” Harry mutters, and Louis is hit by such a mixture of emotions she has to pause for a moment to breathe.

On one hand, she is no longer the biggest bitch in the universe. On the other hand, poor Harry. Louis can’t go off on her now, not when it’s her time of the month. You don’t fuck with periods, it’s like, the rules of womanhood.

“Have you got cramps?” Louis asks gently, tone so soft it surprises her. It’s like she’s slipped straight back to big sister mode; how many time has she had a bawling Fizzy crawl into her bed, because her tummy hurts so much.

“Yeah,” the younger girl mumbles, clutching her pillow. Her knuckles are white and Louis winces in sympathy. “I thought I was due in a couple of days, but now I have a headache and fucking cramps, seriously.”

“Right, do you have a hot water bottle?” Louis asks. Harry shakes her head, so Louis heads to her set of drawers. She rummages through them, grabbing her own beanie dog. “You can borrow this one, you heat it up in the microwave. It’ll make you feel better, yeah?”

Harry blinks at her, loosening her grip on the pillow. She frowns. “Why would you bother?”

“Because in a week I’m going be just as bad,” Louis says firmly, crossing her arms. “And because I’m not a complete fuckbag, that’s why.”

Harry cocks her head to one side, grinning. “We kissed last night.”

Louis inhales like it’s a great inconvenience, not as if the muscles in her legs are trembling. “We did.”

Harry smirks, as smug as kitten that’s curled up in the sunniest corner of the house. “We should do that again.”

“Have you been talking to Zayn?”

“Um, no. Why?”

“No reason, and no we shouldn’t. I still hate you.”

“Which is why you’re offering to nurse me,” Harry says pointedly, and Louis flushes so hard her skin burns.

“Still not shagging you,” Louis snaps, tugging on the ends of her hair. She’s acutely aware of how crap she looks, but then again so does Harry. “Why are you even thinking of that, you were tearing up a second ago.”

“Increase of testosterone and estrogen during my menstrual cycle,” Harry shrugs, smiling wide and fluttering her lashes. “Higher sex drive.”

“Harry,” Louis chokes, then snorts when Harry suddenly doubles over. “See, that’s what you get.”

“What, a boxing match in my abdomen?” Harry whines, clutching her belly. She pouts at Louis, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead. “Please, please, please go heat it up.”

“Fine,” Louis scowls, “but you’re doing this for me when it’s my turn. And buying me tea, and getting me chocolate, and it’s just a suggestion but if there’s not a massage in there, I will cut a bitch.”

“Domestic as hell,” Harry says sweetly, “are you sure we shouldn’t have sex?”

Louis flips her off, and she can hear Harry’s laughter even when she slams the door shut.

 

 

-

 

 

She smiles at the way to the kitchens, even though she still feels like she was shoved in a dustbin then pushed down a hill. Babs clucks her tongue when Louis explains why she’s using the microwave, shoving a packet of paracetamol and some sandwiches in her hands.

Louis can barely fit it all in her hands, so she shoves the beanie dog in her kangaroo pocket, the paracetamol in her hood, and a sandwich in each hand. She opens the door with her elbows, then pauses when she realises Harry is talking to someone.

Specifically, her uterus.

“Look,” Harry sighs, hands pressed to her stomach. “I’m happy I’m not having a baby too. Not that I don’t love babies, because I do, I want loads, but not right now. So could you calm down please?”

“Are you talking to your womb?” Louis asks incredulously, slinging the heat pad on the bed. “Why are you so fucking weird?”

“It’s good to be in tune with your body,” Harry pouts. She beams when she sees the heat pad, pressing it to her abdomen and sighing. “Thank you so much.”

“Talking to your abdomen won’t stop you bleeding from your internal organs.” Louis rolls her eyes, tugging the medicine out of her hoodie. “Babs gave us some sandwiches. Oh, and there’s some paracetamol. You have everyone wrapped around your middle finger, don’t you?”

“Yep,” Harry chirps, then smiles so Louis can see the mushed up sandwich in her mouth.

“Charming.” Louis flips her off, smirking when Harry suddenly starts coughing. “I’m having a shower, you keep - talking to your appendages.”

“I will!” Harry calls cheerfully, and Louis just shakes her head.

She feels infinitely better when she steps in the shower. Louis turns the water up as hot as if can go, groaning when it slides down her back. She scrubs her scratty hair, washing away all the sweat and booze on the night before.

She brushes her teeth again as she steps out, then scrubs her face with a towel. She still feels tired, aching in her bones, like when you have a sleepover but fatigue still cling to you the next day like smoke.

“You better have saved me a sandwich,” Louis yawns, stepping into the other room. “I’m fucking starving.”

“I did,” Harry promises, holding it aloft. She’s no longer curled up on her bed, but sitting on the edge of the ladder, swinging her legs. “I better thank Babs next time I see her.”

“Might want to buy her a present,” Louis says seriously, “personalised Mercedes, that kind of thing. Don’t want to lose your glowing reputation.”

“Fuck off,” Harry scowls, but there’s no heat behind it. Louis thunks down on the bed, taking a huge bite of her sandwich. She wasn’t lying about being hungry.

She’s acutely aware she can’t see Harry anymore; Louis’ on bottom bunk, Harry on top. It’s disconcerting, this lack of visibility, like she isn’t sure when Harry will step into view. She can feel the back of her neck prickling.

“Louis,” Harry whispers, and Louis’ heart thuds. “Um, I.”

Louis closes her eyes, watching the little lights dance behind them. “Yes.”

“I got - I.” Harry swallows, the sound harsh in the silence. “I need to wash my sheets.”

Oh. Oh. Harry sounds completely mortified, and Louis scrambles off the bed, almost whacking her head in the process. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Harry looks stricken, cheeks scarlet. Her bottom lip is trembling, and she looks so embarrassed that Louis wants to scoop her up and hug up. Which is intense. And something she shouldn’t be thinking. Damn those big sister tendencies.

“I can’t carry it to the washrooms by myself,” Harry mutters, still not looking at her. “Could you give me a hand like, just to - “

“It’s late,” Louis cuts in, gut twisting when Harry’s face falls. “No. I just meant we could do it tomorrow? It’s a Sunday, yeah? We can do it early, when no one is up.”

“Oh,” Harry breathes, eyes lighting up. “Oh, cool. Um, yeah. If that’s okay.”

Louis shrugs. “Whatever. It makes more sense.”

“Awesome,” Harry beams, then her face falls again. “Shit, where am I going to sleep?”

See, this is why Louis doesn’t do nice things, because she always inevitably ends up kicked in the face. Next time she is just going to fuck things up and let karma come for her. She’s a Tomlinson. She can take it like a woman.

“I guess I could sleep on the floor,” Harry mumbles, and fuck. This is a moral dilemma of epic proportions. Louis can’t reasonably call herself a woman and make Harry sleeping on the fucking floor.

“Fine, get in you fucking loser.” Harry’s head snaps up, glassy eyes widening. Louis raises an eyebrow. “Don’t say a fucking word, okay, just get in the bed. We can share for the night.”

“Are you serious?” Harry looks suspicious, then ecstatic. She scrambles down the ladder, almost braining herself on one of the rungs. “Awe, I knew you couldn’t resist me.”

“You’re showering first,” Louis orders, ignoring the way her stomach flips. “I’m not sharing a bed with you covered in sweat.”

“Fuck off,” Harry laughs, padding to the bathroom. Louis waits until the door is firmly shut, then shoves her face into her pillows.

What. The fuck. Is she doing. This is a horrible idea, Harry’s going to think she likes her. Which she doesn’t. A lot. Louis can appreciate her dry sense of humour from an objective point of view, plus she’s super hot, and she has dimples, but she doesn’t want to share a bed with her.

Louis sits up abruptly, shoving her pillow away. She grabs her phone, sending an urgent message to Zayn. _**haz has lady cramps and now shes in my bed**_

Zayn’s reply is instant. _**do you not remember our discussion literally this morning. how do you function in real life louis seriously**_

_**fuck off z. what the fuck do i do** _

Zayn doesn’t reply, which is absolutely no help. Louis is going to cut all her hair off while she’s sleeping.

Louis nervously begins to make her bed, shaking the cover and straightening the pillows. It’s not until she’s searching for crumbs that she realises she’s being ridiculous. It’s not as if she’s at a hotel, is going to start scattering rose petals around.

They don’t even have rose petals. She’d have to go snag some stinging nettles or something.

Harry stumbles out of the bathroom then, so Louis hastily straightens up. Her heart does a little flip flop at the sight of the other girl. Her face is soft, pink, free all makeup. There are little lines under her eyes - Harry looks dead on her feet, Louis’ a bit worried she’s going to topple over.

“Okay,” Louis coughs, then curses herself for sounding like an absolute twat. She’s not making a speech, god. “Rules.” She holds up one hand, ticking them off her fingers. “Don’t touch me. Don’t cuddle me. Don’t come near me with any of your limbs. Don’t - “

“You’re an idiot,” Harry snorts, brushing past Louis. “Don’t want to get any girl germs, Lou?”

“Fuck off,” Louis scowls, flipping her off. “Just - get in the bed.”

“So domineering,” Harry purrs, smirking when Louis glares at her. “Okay, okay, chill. I’ll get in the bed.”

She mocks Louis’ voice, high and whiny and absolutely nothing like Louis’ own tone. Harry is a twat. Harry is the twat of all twats. Louis is so fucked.

She flicks off the light, sighing with the sudden darkness. The shadows lick across the room, casting everything in black. Louis tip toes to the bed, sliding under the covers. She immediately turns over on her side, squeezing her eyes shut.

Louis can feel the heat of Harry’s body wash across the bed. There’s got to be inches between them, but it feels as though she’s pressed against Louis’ back. Harry inhales softly, then clears her throat. “Thanks, Lou.”

“Shut up and go to sleep,” Louis mutters, and grips the covers tight.

 

 

-

 

 

She wakes up around two, blinking blearily. There are soft little noises coming from Harry’s side off the bed, shaky sounds that could almost be mistaken for a laugh, except for the little whine at the end.

“Harry?” Louis mumbles, rolling over. “Are you okay?”

She yawns, scrubbing her eyes. The whole room is washed in grayscale, and she can see the jut of Harry’s shoulders through her dark shirt. Harry’s whole body trembles, and then she hesitantly rolls over.

“Cramps,” she answers, voice thick with tears. “Just hurts.”

Louis’ brain is still dizzy with sleep, so she reacts instinctively. She gently shoves Harry’s shoulders, forcing her to turn over, then slips her arms around Harry’s waist. Harry freezes, then relaxes against Louis’ chest.

Louis breathes in deeply, and falls asleep with her face buried in Harry’s curls.

 

 

-

 

 

They don’t talk about it in the morning.

 

 

-

 

Louis tells Zayn about it the next day. Zayn just chokes out, “You were the big spoon?”, and explodes into laughter.

 

 

-

 

 

Cooking week is a joke.

Mainly because Louis’ cooking skills are also a joke. A really bad joke, some knock knock shite Harry would come up with.

“Cooking!” Ava squeals, swinging off Louis’ hand. Her eyes are big as she looks around the pristine kitchens, (cleanliness that is not going to stay that way, if Louis has any experience).

“I’m going to make pizza!” James shouts, stomping his feet in his Spiderman trainers. “With ham and cheese! And no apples!”

“Pineapples,” Louis corrects gently, ruffling his sun streaked hair. “And I don’t think we’re making pizza today, bud. I think we’re making crispy cakes.”

James looks as though he’s about to kick off, but Harvey distracts him. “Can we have chocolate ones?”

“Sure,” Louis nods, eyeing up the equipment on the table. Her kids react with various degrees of enthusiasm; it’s mainly positive so she’ll count it as a win.

She leans against one of the wooden counters, crossing her arms. The light floods through the windows, shining off the counters. She still feels a bit achy, but her bones have lost the hollow, shaking feeling. Harry hadn’t mentioned the cuddling. They’d washed her sheets the next day, the soft smell of fabric freshener and the burn of Harry’s thoughtful gaze.

Harry’s troop files in, and Louis nods at her. Harry pulls a face, sauntering up to her. “Heyy.”

“Hi,” Louis mumbles, grabbing James before he can turn on the oven and burn everyone to the ground. “James, don’t touch that. We will all perish in a terrible fire if you do.”

“Like the Baudelaires,” Holly says solemnly. Louis peers at her.

“The who?”

“It’s a book,” Harry interjects helpfully, so Louis punches her in the tit when nobody's looking. “Ow, what was that for?”

“It’s a book,” Louis mocks, smirking at Harry’s petulant pout. “Yeah, sorry for being so illiterate, mate.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Harry sighs, elbowing Louis in the side. “You should read them though, it’s a good series.”

“No thanks,” Louis scoffs, elbowing her back. “And when would I have the time? Got these terrors to wrangle.”

“True,” Harry admits, nodding her head slowly. Everything Harry does is slow, slow and methodical and tantalizing. The opposite to Louis really, which is quick and sharp and impulsive. Huh. Opposites.

“Morning everyone,” a sweet voice greets, and Louis bites back a groan.

“I didn’t realise you were doing this class.” No, Louis did not know fucking Taylor was organising the cooking class. Fucking Taylor who incidentally may be fucking Harry. Which Louis doesn’t give a flying fuck about, obviously.

“I love baking,” Taylor announces beatifically, tossing her shimmery ponytail. “Of course this isn’t exactly a school of culinary arts, but making cupcakes is god enough.”

School of culinary arts. Christ. Her and Harry are perfect for each other. “What about your group?” Louis asks stiffly, “I thought you were a group leader this year.”

She can see Harry from the corner of her eye, back straight and peering at Louis curiously. Louis has no doubt there’s a little smirk dancing around her lips.

“Ed is looking after them this week,” Taylor explains, tying the strings of her apron. “Okay, does everyone want to head to a table?”

Louis refuses to look at Harry, rounding up half of her herd and ferrying them over to a table. She can distract herself by stopping Ava slopping chocolate over the side of the bowl. Maybe it’ll help her ignore the twisting feeling in her stomach.

“Lou, what do I do?” Jessica mumbles, dumping handfuls of rice krispies into a bowl. Louis’ not sure she’s washed her hands. Oops. “Do I have to mix it?”

“Whisk it,” Holly says knowledgeably. Louis shrugs, tipping some krispies into Ava’s smaller bowl. “Okay, listen to Holly everyone. Master chef right here.”

Holly giggles, little hands gripped around the spoon, and Louis’ heart melts. She helps Ava with her mixing, occasionally chatting to the girls, but mostly listening to their giggling and teasing. They’re a cute bunch.

It’s only when someone coughs she looks up. Harry is smiling at her, hair tied in a curly ponytail. “What are you doing?”

Louis shrugs. “Whisking.”

Harry blinks at her. “Louis, that is a spoon.”

“So?”

“So,” Harry drawls, biting her bottom lip. “You use a whisk to whisk.”

“Oh.” Louis peers at the spoon. “How do you whisk then?”

Harry cackles, stupid booming laughs that make her whole face scrunch up. Louis’ feels her stomach swoop, and she nudges Harry with her hip. “Hey, knock it off. We can’t all be bakers.”

“I used to be a baker, you know,” Harry announces proudly, straightening her apron. Louis doesn’t know where the hell she got it from; it’s pink and has kittens on. “Back home. Worked with old ladies.”

“Womanizer,” Louis teases, smirking when Harry huffs in indignation. “Didn’t realise you liked older women.”

“I like all women,” Harry says seriously, and Louis cracks up at how solemn she sounds.

“You realise you sound like a serial killer, right?” Jess has spilt some chocolate on the table, so Louis quickly wipes it up with a cloth. Harry takes the cloth off her, puttering over to one of the sinks and putting it in.

“Don’t tell them that,” she chastises, running her hand through her fringe. It’s loose today, loose and swooping over her forehead. “They’ll have nightmares.”

“I have nightmares.” Louis leaves it just long enough to sound serious, widening her eyes at Harry. “Of dolphins. Every night, there’s this endless chattering, I can’t - “

“Shut up,” Harry snaps, clearly trying to bite back a laugh. Her lips are quirking up at the corners. “I’m still suffering war flashbacks every time I open a bottle of Pantene. Reckon I can never look at a shower again.”

“Good, I won’t have to deal with your mane clogging up the shower.” It’s a totally lie; Harry’s curls are more vibrant than Louis half the time. “I’m going to cut it all off when you sleep.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Harry hisses, narrowing her eyes. Louis just laughs, tugging on one errant curl. “I swear down, Lou, you mess up my hair and I’ll mess you up.”

Louis opens her mouth to retort, but she trails off when she sees Taylor heading over. Taylor immediately launches into a detailed history of rainbow sprinkles or something, and Louis turns away. She busies herself with helping the girls with their cooking. It’s not exactly hard. If her hands shake as she’s filling the cupcake cases, no one needs to know.

She makes sure everyone has made their cupcakes, then places them into the tray. Jessica clammers to put them in the fridge to set, so Louis goes with her, heart thumping when she nearly drops the entire tray. She would have a mini rebellion on her hands if that happened.

“Okay, everyone go wash your hands,” Louis instructs, nudging Harvey with her elbow. “Yes, Harvey, even you.”

Harvey sticks her tongue out at her. Louis sticks her tongue out right back. She never claimed to be mature.

Harry is still chatting to Taylor, dark head bent close to her light one. The squirmy feeling still hasn’t left her, and Louis doesn’t like the way her stomach pitches whenever she looks at Taylor. She doesn’t hate Taylor is the thing, doesn’t want to either. But the burning jealousy in her gut doesn’t seem to have got the message.

“Thanks, Taylor,” Louis mutters, leading her kids out. Harry blinks in surprise, like she hadn’t even realised it was time to go. “Ava, hold my hand.”

Ava beams at her, slipping her little hand in Louis’. It’s still a little wet, but Louis squeezes it anyway. She glances at Harry, chewing on her bottom lip. “You coming, Styles?”

“Um, sure.” Harry looks surprised at Louis’ sharp tone, but she rounds her own troop up. “Thanks, Taylor, we’ll have to swap recipes some time.”

Louis doesn’t hear the rest of the conversation. She’s already slipped out of the door, tugging on little Ava’s hand.

“Louis, we are going too fast,” Ava whines, “slow down.”

“Walking is good for you!” Louis answers cheerfully. It’s also good for escaping curly haired, yoga loving bakers. “Come on, let’s see who can get to lunch quickest.”

“I can!” Luke yells, stamping his little feet. “James, I’m going to beat you, ha!”

“Don’t run!” Louis shouts, cringing as Sam almost topples over a tree root. “Just - walk fast, okay?”

“Can’t we walk with Harry’s group?” Harvey asks, peering behind them. “I was going to show Thomas my Ben 10 shoes.”

“Why don’t you show me your Ben 10 shoes?” Louis suggests, and then only half listens to his spiel on why Grandpa Max does really know about the aliens.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis makes an executive decision to take some time out that night. She’s not on night shift, her group are all tucked up in bed, and she hasn’t gone for a run in forever. Her impromptu scuttle from the kitchens earlier doesn’t count.

She shoves her iPod in, turning up the volume. She takes a path she’s familiar with, grinning despite the burn in her muscles and the tug in her lungs. Every washes away like a tide going out; the dull ache of homesickness, her confusion over Harry, the niggling worries about uni in a few months.

Her muscles are loose as she winds down. She sprints the last bit, shouting out loud to her iPod, grinning splitting her fast. God, she forgot how nice it was to have a whole bloody forest to run in.

She pauses outside the changing rooms, wrinkling her nose. She’s dirty as fuck - she normally showers in the morning, but she doesn’t fancy sleeping in all her sweaty glory. Louis bites her lip, then slips into the changing rooms. It’s not like she can’t just change back into her clothes after, then jog back to the cabin. Plus the water pressure in the changing rooms is a gift from God and possibly the camp plumber.

The lights flicker as they turn on, lighting up the room with a soft glow. Louis makes a face at herself in the mirror; her hair is slicked back, her makeup smudged under her eyes. She looks like Bucky Barnes in a drag commercial.

She kicks her clothes off quickly, throwing them into a corner. The shower cubicles are one of those communal ones - normally Louis’ just keep her bikini on, like at the swimming pool, but there’s no one here so she just strips off completely. She’ll survive going commando on her ten minute trek back.

She hums as she flicks on the shower, shivering at the first slide of hot droplets. There’s a generic bottle of shower gel that’s alway kept there, so she grabs. She’s just popping the cap, when she hears the door swing open.

Louis scowls, flipping the cap shut again. “Li, is that you? We could have run together, bitch.”

“Not Liam and not a bitch,” a familiar voice calls back, and Louis freezes. Literally, freezes, muscles locking up as her hair slowly dampens. “Are you in the shower?”

“Fuck off, Harry!” Louis yells, nails digging into the hard plastic of the bottle. “What the fuck are you doing here, we have a shower in our cabin!”

“Why are you here?” Harry retorts, and holy shitting fuck, she is definitely getting closer. Louis stares at the white walls blankly, mouth dry. “And I was doing yoga. I thought you’d be in the shower at the cabin, so I popped in here.”

Louis is momentarily distracted by the incredibility of getting sweaty during yoga. “What? Harry, yoga isn’t even a proper sport.”

“Shut up.” Louis can hear the thump of clothes, and her whole body tightens, heat coiling in her abdomen. “What are you doing? You better not be coming in here.”

“I need to use the shower. I had shampoo and stuff in my kit bag.”

“What do you need a kit bag for?” Louis mutters. “It’s yoga, all you need is zero muscle definition.”

There’s another thump, then Harry’s voice rings out again. “You don’t own the fucking showers, I’m coming in.”

Fucking hell. The tiles squeak under Louis’ feet as she turns around, crossing her arms over her chest. It means Harry’s got a panoramic view of her arse, but it’s better than flaunting her tits for her to see. Her heart is thumping in her chest, so hard she’s scared it’ll shatter her bones, her cheeks flaming as blood swirls through her veins.

“Stay over there,” Louis orders, and her voice trembles like a plucked guitar string. Harry doesn’t say anything, and that’s worse, the silence between them making every hair on Louis’ arm lift.

Harry’s shower squeaks on, the thrum of water hitting the tiles. Louis grits her teeth. She takes a deep exhale, opening her eyes and staring ahead at the tiles. Harry begins to hum, low and repetitive and grating at every defence Louis has put up.

Harry pauses. Louis’ entire body feels like a match, and the strike comes when she hears footsteps behind. The flame burns higher when she feels Harry behind her, stepping forward and pressing her whole body against Louis’ back, as if she wants to burn too.

“Do you know how good your arse looks?” Harry murmurs, her voice like gravel and sex and that first shot of vodka. Louis’ so gone.

She acts so fast, she doesn’t realise it, twisting and shoving Harry against the shower wall. Harry’s back hits the wall with a slap, and it must hurt but then they’re kissing, harsh and biting and rough.

Louis’ hands are fisted in Harry’s damp hair, as Harry’s licks into her mouth, like she’s trying to taste every single part of her. Harry’s hands are everywhere, her sides, her arse, her tits, and then she slips a wet thigh between them and _fuck_.

“We did this before,” Louis pants, heat rocking through her in waves and she grinds forward. Harry is kissing her neck, bites down so hard on her collarbone that Louis keens. Harry licks over it like it’s an apology, but Louis clutches her arse and digs her nails in. “Got any other skills, Styles?”

Harry pauses, and Louis feels adrenaline thrum in her bloodstream. Harry pulls back and slowly lifts one eyebrow.

“Bored, sweetheart?” she asks, voice oozing sweetness, and then she drops to her knees.

Louis nearly comes right then and there. Harry looks up at her, hair slick back with water, droplets sliding down her face. Her nipples are perky, dusky pink, and Louis swallows as Harry runs one hand over them.

“Because I could always entertain myself,” Harry continues, and then slips a hand between her own legs. Louis flinches as Harry’s eyes flutter shut, hand moving tantalizingly slow. “If you’re not up to it.”

“Come over here,” Louis murmurs, and her voice sounds shot to hell. “And get your pretty mouth on my cunt.”

Harry’s eyes fly open, barely a sliver of viridescent green. Her mouth parts slightly, rosebud pink, and then her lips tilt up in a smirk. It’s so fucking filthy it makes Louis’ head spin, but then Harry puts her pretty mouth on her cunt, and Louis blacks out.

Harry licks a slow, wide strip up her slit, messy and hot and so good Louis can’t take it. Her nails dig into Louis’ hips, pinning her in, and parts Louis’ folds with her tongue, tracing the lips and pressing against them hotly. Louis gasps, jolting her hips forward, shivering when Harry only digs her nails in harder.

“Harry, fuck.” Harry teasingly runs a finger over her slit, sliding in so easy Louis must know she’s soaking. Even her thighs feel wet, and Harry hums against her pussy as she crooks her fingers.

“Harry, if you don’t get your fucking mouth on my clit - “ Harry pulls back and Louis’ legs buckle, the rush of air shocking and making her thighs clench.

“Ride my face,” Harry mumbles and fuck. Harry’s mouth is slick, slick with Louis, and her eyes are bottle green and glassy. “I don’t mind, do it.”

“Fuck,” Louis swears, and then Harry’s burrowing her face between her thighs. She finally, finally touches Louis’ clit, circling it with her tongue, sucking on it and pressing open mouthed kisses to it. Louis’ entire body trembles with how good it feels. “Fuck, you love this, don’t you? Getting wet, getting filthy, wearing my slick on your face like a prize - “

Louis cuts off with a cry, as Harry slides another finger in, fucking her hard. She grinds down on Harry’s mouth and jesus, can she even breathe? But Harry’s moaning like it’s heaven, and she sucks Louis’ clit into her mouth, and Louis comes so hard her whole vision goes white.

She slides down the wall, legs giving way. Her eyes are shut tight; she can feel her thighs shaking, Harry’s hands are soft and warm on her knees. The water thuds against the floor, and Louis opens one eye.

Harry blinks at her mournfully. “Should have turned off the water. It’s better for the environment.”

“Harry,” Louis mumbles, “Harry, if you make me laugh, my vagina is going to fall off. So please don’t.”

Harry promptly cackles, and Louis just wants for her blood to cool, soothed by the thump, thump, thump of her heart. When she’s finally regained the power of speech, she flicks Harry’s thumb. “You’ve been holding out on me.”

“Told you we should have had sex.” Harry looks unbearably smug, so Louis decides to stop that right now.

“Come here,” Louis breathes. Harry looks up at her through her lashes, and Louis kisses her on impulse. It’s sweet and soft, a slow press of lips as she threads a hand through Harry’s hair.

“Do you want to fucked here or at home?” Louis asks, just to see Harry’s eyelashes flutter.

She tugs Harry to her feet, wrapping around each other like vines. They kiss for what feels like forever, Louis’ hands low on Harry’s waist, Harry’s hands hooked around Louis’ neck. “Here,” Harry whispers. She ducks her head, pressing her thumb into the blooming bruise on Louis’ neck. “Right here, where anyone can see.”

And Louis is so on board for that. She slides one hand up Harry’s body, cupping one of her breasts in her hands. Louis grins when Harry inhales, swirling one thumb over her nipple. She pinches the other, Harry sinking her teeth into her bottom lip.

“These are nice.” Louis traces the black ink etching Harry’s chest, right above her breasts. She’d been a bit, ahem, distracted before, but now she admires the two swallows. “Did they hurt?”

“A little.” Harry’s voice is like gravel, and her eyes darken when Louis presses her thumb right in the hollow of her breast. She lets her thumb slide down, skimming over one nipple, and Harry stiffens.

“Thought you had a thing for this,” Louis murmurs. Harry arches her neck back, and it ignites something hot and primal in her stomach. Harry is vulnerable like this, pale skin bare and trembling against Louis’ palm. “That night at the club, ready to be completely fucked infront of everyone.”

She slides her hands down, stomach flipping as she feels slick, burning heat. Harry’s so wet, and Louis’ fingers are soaked as she slides one digit in. Harry bucks her hand, burrowing her face in the crook of Louis’ neck. “Louis, fuck.”

Louis slowly presses the pad of her thumb against Harry’s clit, relishing in the way her body trembles. She slowly rocks her fingers inside of Harry, curling and curling into she finds that spot. “Come on, baby, let me hear you.”

Her stomach flips as Harry whines, cold nose pressed to her throat. She circles her clit again, slow and repetitive, whilst her fingers move faster and faster. Harry is shaking now, and Louis marvels at the way her whole body clenches down on her hand. Louis’ had sex with girls before, but Harry is so responsive, body singing with every small touch, and it sends Louis’ head spinning.

“Come on,” Louis urges, and she reaches up to pinch one of Harry’s nipples. Harry whines in surprise and then she’s coming, mewling as her body rocks down. Louis’ fingers are completely soaked.

“Christ,” Harry says after a few seconds, and they both start giggling, laughing like little girls in the back of a classroom. “Not bad, Tomlinson.”

“Fuck off,” Louis giggles, shoving Harry away from her. Her hands take longer than they should to leave Harry’s skin, like they’re in slow motion. “You’re fucking soaked, Styles, don’t lie.”

Harry flushes prettily, lobbing the shower gel bottle at her. “Like you’re any better.”

“True,” Louis admits, and they both start laughing again. It’s nice, stupidly nice, and Louis feels something soft and golden bloom beneath her collarbone.

They clean up, though the water’s tempid by now. Harry’s a fucking tease with the sponge, and Louis nearly fucks her again until she’s crying. She’s so tempted. As it is, she just throws a shampoo bottle at Harry’s head when she’s not looking. It actually hits her and Harry sulks so hard Louis almost wets herself.

“You’re a dick,” Harry scowls, when Louis snaps her on the bare arse with one of the towels. It turns a lovely shade of crimson, which makes Louis goes cross eyed for a bit. Then Harry tosses her bra in the bin, and Louis throws a soap dispenser at her head.

“I have to go fucking commando now,” Louis groans. She fishes her bra out of the trash, then shoves it in Harry’s sport bag. She raises an eyebrow at Harry’s annoyed scoff. “What? You break it, you buy it.”

“You look better without it,” Harry says, and Louis ducks her head to hide the pleased flush on her cheeks.

“Well, you would think that, you sleep naked,” Louis replies, and Harry shrugs unapologetically.

The night air is cool on Louis’ face, whipping round her cheeks and cooling her blood. She and Harry don’t hold hands, but their knuckles bump against each other every so often. She can hear the soft rustle of the trees, the lap of the lake against the shore in the distance.

Every time she glances at Harry, Harry’s smiling to herself, wandering along in a jagged line. She looks completely blissed, all the lines of her face smoothed out, humming softly. Louis’ heart swells in her chest, and she can’t help smiling.

She keeps expecting Harry to ask. Ask what they’re doing, because Louis definitely doesn’t know. Apart from having extremely hot sex in public places. Extremely hot, Louis muses, and distracts herself with thoughts of Harry’s tongue all the way back.

“I’m knackered,” Harry mumbles, kicking her feet. She keeps doing it, flexing her ankles, until she glances down. “Oops. Forgot I had boots on.”

“You’re a twat,” Louis says, but there’s no heat behind it. She kneels down, unlacing Harry’s boots and tugging them off. “There.”

When she looks up, Harry’s staring at her. Louis couldn’t name the look in her eye if you paid her, but it makes her shiver all over. “Thanks,” Harry says hoarsely, and her palm is warm when she pulls her up.

Louis is orgasm sleepy, and Harry’s even worse. She putters around like a dozy kitten, until Louis tugs her into the bathroom. Harry smiles thankfully, and they brush their teeth in comfortable silence.

Louis almost invites Harry to sleep with her, the taste of mint in her mouth and the words about to slide off her time. She stops herself just in time, ignoring the despondent look Harry shoots the top bunk. Her muscles are aching pleasurably, but she still doesn’t know what this is. There’s a small, scared part of her that tells her to keep her mouth shut, and Louis’ not dumb enough to think sex is that good with someone you don’t like.

“Do you think Mr Darcy and Elizabeth had sex?”

The wave of relief that washes through Louis is so strong it chokes her. She clears her throat, coughing as her eyes prickle. “Um, dunno. You talking about that film with Keira Knightley? Wasn’t sex illegal back then?”

“It wasn’t illegal,” Harry drawls, honey sweet tug of the vowels. “You just couldn’t do it in public.”

Louis snorts. “Harry, you can’t do it in public now.”

“We’re both going down then,” Harry mutters, and it’s so dry Louis can’t help crack up. Harry makes a little pleased sound, like she’s happy she managed to make Louis laugh. “Keira Knightley is really hot, though.”

Louis shrugs, even though Harry can’t see her. Keira’s a lovely girl, but she doesn’t do much for Louis. She was good in Bend it like Beckham, though. “I guess.”

“And a good actress.” Harry sounds worried now, anxiety bleeding into her tone. “Not that I’m like, objectifying her or anything. She’s gorgeous, but she’s also so much more than that.”

“Yeah, I know, Haz.” Louis doesn’t even try to hide the fondness in her voice. She’s tired. Her duvet is comfy. Her self control is about zero. “Why are you talking about Keira Knightley anyway?”

The silence is too long for it to be accidental. Harry clears her throat, then again, and then a third time until Louis smacks her hand against the frame of the bed. “Jesus, do you want a cough sweet or something?”

“No, I’m fine.” Harry sounds a little like she’s sulking. “Lou, have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?”

“Nah. I’m illiterate, remember?”

“Fuck off.” Harry shifts a little above her, the movement of it rocking the bed. “I was going to make a witty literary comparison, and now I can’t.”

“Have fun with that,” Louis mumbles, turning over in her bed. She’s so tired, her eyelids fighting to close. Her bed is comfy and soft, and she pulls the covers up to her chin. She knows tomorrow the floodgates of second guessing and repression will be wide open, so she might as well get a good night’s sleep while she can.

“Goodnight,” Harry whispers, voice quiet like a ghost in the dark.

“Goodnight,” Louis mumbles, and falls asleep with the taste of Harry at the back of her teeth.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quite shout out, I have never done bondage before. I used [this site](http://www.thesite.org/sex-and-relationships/having-sex/bondage-for-beginners-3925.html) for guidance, but please do tell me if anything is wrong.
> 
> have safe sex pals :D

It’s fair to say Louis’ expectations the next morning aren’t very high. It’s fair to say they’re very low. As in bottom of the ocean very low. And not some pissy passive seabed shit, all the way down to where those fish with light bulbs attached to them live. Like in Finding Nemo.

Anyway, it’s not going to be good. It’s probably going to be incredibly awkward. Because somewhere along the line, Louis has somehow fallen into like with Harry Styles, despite wanting to burn her at the stake earlier in life.

And now they’ve had sex. Really good sex. Louis may be emotionally constipated, but she is an emotionally constipated _lesbian_ , and she knows when she starts to have feelings - sexual ones at the very least - for another equally emotionally constipated lesbian.

Who probably hates her guts, who is probably only in it for a good fuck, who is going to wake up in around five minutes and pretend it never happened. Because despite aforementioned burning at the stake, Harry is sweet and funny and sarcastic as hell, only in a really slow, dry way which turns Louis on for some inexplicable reason. And Louis is none of those things.

Yeah. So Louis is screwed. And not being screwed by Harry either, which would be the only fun way of being screwed.

Louis shoves her face in her pillow, groaning. It’s too damn early for this. There’s a creak above her, then one slim ankle appears. Harry pads to the bathroom, giving Louis a nice view of her lace clad arse.

Louis stretches, slinging her feet over the side of the bed. She’s in the middle of a yawn, when a yelp comes from the bathroom. A minute later, the door swings open, revealing an irate Harry.

“What the hell did you put in my toothpaste?”

Oh yeah. Louis forgot about that. Harry had put salt in her tea without looking last week, so Louis had swapped her toothpaste for lube. “Um. Well.”

“There is a deceivingly small tube here.” Harry brandishes the tube like a sword, tone deceptively calm. “And there is something in the deceivingly small tube, that doesn’t taste like toothpaste.”

“That’s nice, dear.” Louis flutters her eyes at her. “Maybe it’s just a different brand.”

“Fuck you.” Harry storms into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. Louis feels immediately more cheerful. Maybe things won’t be so different.

 

 

-

Harry pins her against the door and kisses her senseless before they leave.

It’s hard and bruising, Louis’ lips red and sore. Harry fists one hand in her hair, and sucks a mark into her neck, until she’s squirming and panting, so turned on she can’t think straight.

“I’m going to get you back for the lube, you little shit,” Harry whispers, breath hot against her ear, and Louis’ stomach does about sixty flip flops.

-

 

 

Louis seeks out Zayn, because if anyone knows about regency novels it’s her. Louis isn’t actually illiterate, but she’d rather watch Natasha Romanov jump out of a plan then Keira Knightley try on a corset. (No offence to Keira, but Louis is a Marvel girl.)

“Have you ever read Pride and Prejudice?” Louis slips into a seat beside Zayn, wrinkling her nose. “Zayn, how much caffeine have you get in that? I’m not sure that’s healthy.”

Zayn gives her a dirty look. “Why do you want to know about Pride and Prejudice?”

“I’m interested.” Zayn doesn’t look she believes her at all, lifting one perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Look, just give me a brief synopsis.”

Zayn begins to babble on, but Louis’ eyes glaze over a bit. She should probably be listening, but Zayn does go on. “Does anyone have sex?”

“No,” Zayn says slowly, nostrils flaring. “Lou, did you listen to any of that?”

“Any of what?” Niall asks cheerfully. She thumps her plate on the table, reaching for the salt. “You coming swimming today, Zayn?”

“No,” Zayn hisses, eyes narrowing into slits, and Niall cackles.

“I’m going to teach her to swim,” Niall explains, beaming at Louis. Her blond hair is plaited in two tiny braids, skin dotted with freckles from the sun. “Cause she won’t so much as dip a toe in the water.”

Zayn scowls, wrinkling her nose. “That lake is filthy, I’ll probably catch a disease.”

“If there is one we’ve already got it,” Niall shrugs. “So does Payno probably, and you’re shagging her, so you’re even more screwed.”

“That is surprisingly good logic,” Louis acknowledges, and Niall gives her a fist bump. “Hey, Niall, don’t suppose you’ve read Pride and Prejudice?”

Zayn kicks her in the shin. “Hey, I just told you about it.”

“I asked for a summary, not a GCSE textbook,” Louis snaps, kicking Zayn right back. Zayn looks like she’s going to argue, when Niall interjects.

“Yeah, it’s Haz’s favourite movie.” Niall takes a sip of her drink, licking her lips. “It’s the romance one, yeah? And they all prance around in fancy dresses, then that guy gets with that girl - “

“Sounds riveting.” Does Harry think Louis should buy her a fancy dress? Or that she’s a boy? “Anything else happen?”

Niall scrunches her nose up, like she’s trying to remember. “Um, I think they hate each other at the start? And then they get over it. And get married, actually. Or just move to his big fancy house.”

Hm. Well, the love-hate part sounds a bit familiar. Louis’ about to probe Niall some more, when her phone goes off. She slides it out her pocket, glancing up at the big table where Simon and the other counsellors are sitting. Thankfully they’re busy discussing something, so Louis taps the message.

And blinks. And blinks again when she realises she a message from _Hagrid_.

“Um, what is this?” Louis barks, shoving her phone in Zayn’s face. Zayn bats her hand away, grabbing the phone so she can see it clearer.

“I don’t know, did you recently join Hogwarts?” Louis flips Zayn off, scrolling through her contacts. Gone is her mum, and Lottie, and Stan, and Liam. Instead in place she has: _Remus Lupin, Argus Filch, Snape_ , and _Abbity Babbity_ , which Louis has no fucking clue about.

“The fuck.” Louis trails off, eyes widening at ‘giant squid in the lake.’ What if it’s her mum? She can’t ring up and be like, excuse me - are you a large aquatic sea monster? “The fuck is this? Zayn, did you change all my contacts?”

“No, of course not, I haven’t been near your phone.” Zayn starts to laugh, eyes crinkling up at the corners. “Oh my god, Louis. What are you going to do, you have no idea who all your contacts are!”

“Shut up,” Louis whines. She tentatively sends a message to ‘ _Pansy Parkinson_ ,’ in the hopes it’s not her driving instructor. “Zayn, get your phone out, let me see which one’s your number.”

“Nope!” Zayn beams, shaking her head. “You have to figure this out yourself, Lou. Payback for the time you stretched out all my crop tops.”

“It’s not my fault you have no tits, don’t be unreasonable,” Louis hisses. “You were born with the chest of a boy, accept it.”

Niall starts laughing too, scrabbling to peer at Louis’ phone. “Let me see, I want to know what I’m saved as.”

“No!” Louis scowls. She holds the phone away from Niall, sticking her tongue out at her when she jabs her in the ribs. “Knock it off, I have to find out what the real numbers are.”

She’s furiously searching her memory for recognisable digits - and having zero luck - when her phone vibrates. Louis opens it immediately, scanning the text.

**_From: Harry (not Potter)_ **

**_Hufflepuff or Slytherin?_ **

Louis frowns in confusion, then a new text arrives.

_**From: Harry (not Potter)** _

_**because I’d really like to slytherin to your bed tonight ;)** _

There’s only one person with puns that bad. Louis deletes the message, rests her head on the table, and shoves her the phone at Niall in defeat.

 

 

-

 

 

Harry makes a total of 24 Harry Potter jokes, until Louis threatens to rip her pillow in half. It’s not her greatest threat, but it’s all she can think of after a day of sneak calling ‘Professor McGonagall.’

“I’m going to kill you,” Louis promises, furiously tapping away at her phone. “You are such a prick, how did you even get my phone?”

Harry’s doing yoga on the floor, which is both distracting and entertaining. Her hair is pulled into a messy high bun, defying gravity by pure will power. She’s in a tank and a purple cami, her skin glistening slightly with exertion. She keeps licking pink lips and blinking jade eyes, and it’s extremely disconcerting.

“Did it last night,” Harry answers, panting slightly. She pushes her back up, pointing her toes.

“What? I didn’t swap your toothpaste till this morning!” Louis snaps, flinging her phone to the side. “That’s not fair!”

“Pre-emptive strike,” Harry shrugs, though how she manages it whilst completing a downward dog, Louis has no idea. “I knew you were going to do something, Tomlinson.”

Louis is vaguely impressed, so naturally pretends she is bored as fuck. “What are you even doing? No wait, don’t answer that. Don’t make any noise, okay?”

Harry stares at her from upside down. “Um, why?”

“Because I’m going to skype my sisters,” Louis answers, dragging her laptop out from under the bed. She needs to get a new one for uni, really, but that’s never going to happen. She might have to stretch out her student loan to cover it. “And I don’t need you panting in the background.”

“Are you really skyping your sisters?” Harry asks interestedly, sitting up. “Can I see? Do they look like you?”

“Well, siblings tend to,” Louis mutters, typing in her password. She squints a bit at the screen, before pushing her laptop off her laps. She roots about in her drawers, before pulling out her glasses. She doesn’t normally wear them, but the screen is making her eyes ache. “And no you can’t, you creeper.”

Harry has gone very still, like a rabbit sighting a fox. “Um.”

Louis frowns at her, glancing up from the screen. “What?”

“I didn’t know you had glasses,” Harry mumbles. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and Louis adjusts her specs uncomfortably.

“Well, I do,” she says unnecessarily, turning back to her laptop. She boots up skype, tapping her nails as she waits.

She can feel the itching under her skin settle as the screen flickers and three familiar faces beam at her. “Hi, Louis!” the twins chorus, and Louis waves at them frantically. It must be near their bedtime, because they’re in matching Spiderman pajamas. Louis had brought them for the twins last Christmas.

“Are you having fun at camp?” Phoebe asks, face way too close to the webcam. She never seems to understand how they work; Louis can see a blur of blue eyes, with a few tuft of blond hair. “Can I come?”

“I’m going first,” Daisy scowls, pulling Phoebe back. “Lou said I could come stay first, didn’t you?”

“Both of you shut up.” Fizzy snaps. She’s texting on her phone, but she looks up and waves at the screen. “Lou, you are so tanned! Lottie is going to be so jealous.”

“I know,” Louis preens, proudly waving her sun kissed arm in front of the screen. “Look at that, girls, it’s like I’ve been in Spain for a week.”

“Me and Pheebs went to holiday club,” Daisy yells, waving her hands in the air. Louis misses them so much. “Look, we did drawings, and we planted a flower, and we got to go swimming.”

“How’s the swimming going?” Louis asks gently, and lets them chatter on about what they’ve been up to. Daisy is as enthusiastic as ever, running off to grab her drawings and show her. Phoebe is more subdued, but she shows Louis the Rainbow Fairy book she’s been reading. She even reads a little bit out, voice soft and stumbling over the longer words.

“That was so good, Pheebs,” Louis praises, giving the younger girl a big thumbs up. “Mrs Fields is going to be so impressed when you go back to school!”

Phoebe beams happily, showing Louis the gap in her teeth. “Yeah. Might get a sticker.”

“Bet you will,” Louis smiles, “Fizzy, are you getting all your coursework done?”

“It’s the summer, I don’t even have coursework,” Fizzy says scornfully. She tosses her hair, pursing her lips. Louis was never that bad as a teenager. “I’m sleeping in all summer. And looking after these two monkeys.”

“Hey!” Daisy protests, but Fizzy just ruffles her hair. It makes Louis’ heart hurts; it’s an action Fizzy’s clearly copied from her. She’s done it so many times. “We’re not monkeys!”

“But it is your bedtime,” Louis notes, laughing as the twins pull matching disgruntled expressions. “I can tell the time, you know, mum is going to come get you in any moment.”

Right on cue, she can hear her mum shout up the stairs. The twins wave goodbye cheerily, Daisy smacking a messy kiss to the camera, then scampering off. Fizzy is less boisterous but still heart rending. “Miss you, Lou,” she mumbles, then struts off with her thumbs attached to her phone.

Louis definitely isn’t crying, but her eyes do prickle uncomfortably for a few moments. But then her mum’s familiar face appears on screen, and she feels miles better. “Hey, mum.”

“Hey, sweetheart.” Louis drinks in her face, looking for any extra worry lines. She doesn’t look overly exhausted, so the girls can’t be running her too ragged. “How’s camp? Are you eating enough? How’s Zayn and Liam?”

“Good, yes, and still disgusting.” There’s a chuckle from the corner of the room, and Louis flicks Harry a glance. Harry looks the picture of innocence, but her lips are twitching slightly. Louis smiles back, then looks away. “How’s the girls? How’s Dan? Is Lottie still with Robbie or - “

“Calm down, love, the girls are all fine. I can manage when you’re not here.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that burning smell?”

Jay’s eyes flash in panic, and she stands up, before scowling. Louis laughs so hard she almost falls off the bed. “That’s not funny, Louis!”

“Yeah, it is.” Louis leans back against her pillows, shuffling to get comfier. “Daisy told me she wants to get a puppy? Don’t let her do that, it’ll shit everywhere.”

“Louis, I have five children, do you think I can afford a puppy?” Jay shakes her head. “Besides, don’t pretend you didn’t go through a stage of wanting an unicorn.”

Harry definitely snorts at that, not even trying to hide her amusement. Louis flips her off. “Shut up.”

“Who are you talking to?” Jay asks immediately, narrowing her eyes. “Are you talking to Zayn? How is she, love, I haven’t seen her for ages.”

“Um.” Louis swallows, trying to ignore the way her palms are sweating. “Um, me and Zayn didn’t share this year. She shared with Liam, so.”

“Oh, that’s sweet,” her mum coos. Jesus, is everyone besotted with Liam and Zayn? Zayn’s a complete douche half the time. “Who you sharing with, then? That nice Leigh Anne girl?”

Louis can see Harry silently cracking up from the corner of her eye. “Um, no, not Leigh Anne.” Harry wheezes and Louis glares at her, fighting the way her cheeks flame. “Someone else. A new girl. She’s called Harry.”

“Let me see her,” Jay answers promptly, making grabby motions at the camera. “I want to see your new roommate.”

That sounds like a terrible idea, but Harry perks up like a damn puppy. She looks so hopeful, running a hand through her hair and smoothing her shirt. Louis stares at her for a long minute, then pats the bed with a sigh. “Alright, get up here, loser.”

She should so not be doing this, but it’s too late now. Harry clambers onto the bed, one of her giraffe limbs elbowing in the stomach. “Bloody hell,” Louis shrieks, shoving Harry over. “Just sit normally, jesus.”

“Don’t be rude,” Harry hisses, then blinks her big bambi eyes at the laptop screen. “Hiii.”

“Hello,” Jay says cheerily, “how are you, love?”

“I’m fine, thank you, how are you?” Harry asks politely, flashing a big smile, and Louis’ mum practically melts, like butter in the sun.

It all goes downhill from there. Louis watches in horror as Harry charms the pants off her mum. At times she’s a bit scared it may actually come to that, considering the blatant flirting Harry’s doing.

She distracts herself with picking at a hole in her jeans. There’s one string that’s pissing her off, so she keeps pulling it irritably. It’s almost snapped when Harry grabs her hand, lacing their fingers together. Louis frowns, but Harry just keeps talking calmly. Louis shrugs and keeps her hand there. Harry’s hand is warm, soft, and it’s not actually doing anything so.

“Okay, mum, got to go now!” Louis chirps, after the 34th innuendo. There’s only so much of the Harry Styles fan club she can take. “Got to get a good night’s sleep and all that!”

“Bye, darling!” her mum answers, waving at the screen. “Make sure you wear loads of sunscreen, I looked at the weather and it’s meant to be really hot. And drink lots of water!”

“I told her that,” Harry says smugly, and Louis elbows her in the ribs. “Goodnight! It was nice to meet you! Virtually, I mean.”

Her mum actually fucking giggles, so Louis quickly says her own goodbyes. “I’ll see you soon, yeah? Say hi to Lottie for me, okay?”

“Will do!” Jay promises, and then the screen goes black. Louis slides her hand out of Harry’s, flicking her laptop off and shutting the lid.

“Were you seriously chatting up my mum?” Louis asks incredulously, standing up and stretching. Her back clicks and she groans in contentment. “That is gross and inappropriate. Reign it in, Styles.”

Harry rolls over on her side, looking up at Louis. “Do you miss your sisters?”

Louis swallows. “Well, yeah. Of course I do.”

“I miss Gemma sometimes,” Harry muses, propping her chin up on her hand. “And mum. But it must be harder with a bigger family.”

“I guess.” Louis feels awkward, stilted, like she isn’t quite sure if she wants the words to fall out. She’s never been one for holding in her feelings; they tend to batter against the walls until they escape and set everything on fire. “I don’t know what I’m going to do when I go to uni.”

She hasn’t told anyone that, not out loud, not even Stan. Her palms are sweating, and she rubs them on her jeans, palm smarting at the rough denim. “I mean, I have to go, I don’t know how else I’m going to get into journalism, but - “

“ - it sucks,” Harry finishes for her, and Louis lets a little, bitter laugh.

It’s quiet outside, the sun slowly sinking, casting dancing shadows across the wooden floor. Harry swings her legs round, resting her face on her hands. “Your mum will be okay. Are the twins at school yet?”

“Yep, just started.” Louis bites her lip, scuffing her feet against the floor. She hasn’t got any socks on, a terrible habit of hers. “But still, for ages it was just us and - it’s going to be weird. I guess.”

“Which one you going to?” Harry asks, eyes closing slightly. She looks sleepy, sweet, and something pangs in Louis’ chest. Part of her wouldn’t mind if Harry fell asleep right there, on Louis' bed. “Me and Niall are taking a year out.”

“Leeds, same as Liam and Zayn. It’s not too far, so. Shouldn’t be too bad.” Harry nods thoughtfully, and when she looks at Louis it’s like she’s looking straight through her, like she can everything Louis’ thinking and more. It’s like being turned inside out, and it sends a shiver through her body. “You taking a gap year, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Harry says slowly, and Louis raises an eyebrow. She can hear the hesitation after her answer, that tiny, dragging pause. “Me and Ni, we’re going to - don’t laugh, okay?”

Louis blinks, and genuinely hurts, hurts that Harry thinks she would laugh at her. Well, she would. But not for serious. “Course I won’t, don’t be dumb.”

It’s hardly encouraging, but Harry lights up like the fucking sun. “Well me and Niall have this band, yeah? So we might that for a bit, Ed said he could hook us up with some gigs… And then if it all goes tits up, I can just accept my place at Huddersfield. I’ve got in, I just deferred.”

“All sorted then,” Louis says softly, and Harry blushes prettily. “So you can sing then? Do I ever get a listen?”

“Um. Maybe.” God, shy Harry is the cutest thing ever. She’s ducking her head behind her arms, picking at a thread on the duvet. “I mean, if you want to. Niall is really good at the guitar, though.”

“Awesome.” Louis yawns, rubbing her eyes. She curses at she hits plastic. “Shit, forgot I still had me glasses on.”

“Just so you know,” Harry begins, and her voice makes Louis’ head snap up. “You look really hot in glasses.”

Harry pins her to the bed and eats her out, and Louis leaves smudged fingerprints on her laptop when she puts it away after.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis doesn’t know how she gets dragged to a morning yoga class, but she gets dragged to a morning yoga class.

Actually, scrap that. She’s knows exactly how she got dragged to a morning yoga class. Harry had poked her until she’d got up, then Liam had pitched for some reason, so it had been like happy hour, and then they’d both pulled Louis out of bed, telling her to join their ‘fitness routine.’

“It’s sports week next,” Liam had said earnestly, widening her cow brown eyes. “You need to get in shape.”

“I am in shape,” Louis had spat, trying to drown herself in an oversize hoodie. “I go jogging in the woods.”

“Come to yoga with me, Tommo, please,” Liam had begged, “come on, please.”

Louis had been about to tell her to fuck off, then Harry had hopped out of the bathroom in ridiculous yellow shorts that barely covered her arse, and now Louis is somehow at a morning yoga class.

“I refuse to do it.”

Harry crosses her arms. She doesn’t look even remotely intimidating. “Louis - “

“No!” Louis hisses. She stamps her foot, ignoring Harry’s resulting chuckle. “I will never give in.”

It’s early, so early, and Louis shivers in the cold. They’re in one of the sports fields, Harry laying out three mats. The grass is cool under Louis’ hand, cool and damp, sliding through her fingers. Her breath comes out in little clouds, but she can tell it’ll be sunny later on.

“Louis, get on a mat,” Liam orders, so Louis sniper crawls over to the nearest one. She amuses herself for a bit by ripping out huge clumps of grass, enjoying the noise it makes. Then she gets bored, so puts the entire thing down Liam’s back.

Liam screams so loudly she makes a bird fly out of its tree. Louis can honestly say it’s the best reaction she was hoping for.

“Louis,” Harry wheedles, looking over her shoulder. She’s in the middle of some complex pose, which looks completely unnatural. “Come on. We’ve got sports week next week. I want you to do some yoga, then you can see why should put it in.”

“Such a bonding experience,” Louis mumbles through a yawn, and Harry frowns. “Okay, I’ll try.”

“Thank you,” Harry says graciously, turning back round. “Okay, so I want you to raise your right leg.”

Louis doesn’t raise her right leg. Louis falls asleep on the mat, and doesn’t wake up until Liam and Harry are finished. Harry shakes her awake, and the first thing she sees is amused green eyes.

“Enjoy the class?” Harry asks sweetly. Louis shrugs sheepishly, scrubbing at her eyes. “If you don’t think I’m dragging you out again tomorrow, you are wrong.”

“I enjoyed it,” Liam announces, to the surprise of no one. Liam looks an Adidas advert, skin flushed and glowing. “That was great, Harry, you should definitely do it with the kids.”

“Thanks,” Harry beams. She rolls her mat up, shoving it under one arm, then pulling Louis up with the other. “I always feels better after doing yoga in the morning.”

“Happy days,” Louis says sarcastically, laughing when Harry elbows her. She ends up leaning into Harry, hands shoved in that big front pocket, blinking sleep out of her eyes. “Yoga is shit.”

“Shut up.” Harry nudges her with her hip, arms brushing, side by side. “I’ll just do it tomorrow. And the next day. And the next - “

“Shut the fuck up. I don’t want to do smelly yoga.”

Harry bursts out laughing. “Smelly yoga? Didn’t realise you were a five year old.”

“I’m sleepy,” Louis whines, hiding her face in her hoodie. Harry just laughs harder, shaking with it. “I hate you.”

Harry smiles so wide her dimples flare. “Hate you too.”

The morning air slides cold fingers down Louis’ neck, and she can hear the lap of the waves in the distance. They’re both lying.

-

“Okay, this is a matter of life and death.”

Holly raises her hand. Louis sighs. “Yes, Holly.”

Holly’s got her hair pulled back in a ponytail, two streaks of purple on her cheeks. Harvey had claimed it was ‘war paint’: he now looks like an explosion in a Ribena factory. “We’re not actually going to die though, right?”

“Right, but you really have to win, okay?” Holly nods like a little queen, and immediately orders everyone to warm up. She even shouts at Louis for not doing a star jump, so Louis dutifully joins in.

It’s Friday, which means team challenge, which means time to kick Harry’s butt. Louis can’t let the excellent sex last night distract her. (Even though it was excellent. One day Louis will figure out what the hell they’re doing. Until then, she’s content to keep fingering Harry until she screams. And late night heart to hearts, which is apparently on the cards now.)

“Right, get in positions,” Louis urges, ushering her kids over. The wind occasionally whips at her cheeks, the sun high and burning in its sky blue canvas. She’s already put on a tonne of sunscreen, palms sweaty and skin shining.

“Good afternoon,” Bressie booms, and all the kids dutifully chorus back, good afternoon, Mr Breslin. It’s adorable, it’s like they’re back at school. “Now, here are the rules for today’s challenge.”

It doesn’t seem to hard. One team member is blindfolded, while another team member directs them. The blindfolded team member has to be guided through a number of obstacles, skipping on the spot, stepping through a hoop, then guided back. Quickest team wins.

“Piece of cake,” Louis sniffs, and grins when her group let out a battle cry. Mostly it’s just screaming and the odd Frozen lyric, but Liam’s team look like they’re wetting themselves.

“Okay, we should pair the younger ones up with the older ones,” Louis suggests, crouching down in the group huddle. “Harvey, do you want to go with Sam? He’s going to tell you what to do, okay?”

Harvey nods, but Ava chews her bottom lip. “Is it going to be scary? I don’t like the dark.”

She hides her face, pushing it into Louis’ shorts. Louis strokes her head comfortingly. “It’s okay, you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to. But you probably should try, yeah? Just have a little go.”

“Hm, maybe,” Ava mumbles, “can I get Jess to tell me what to do?”

“Yay, I’ll help you, Ava,” Jessica beams, skipping over to them. She tugs Ava away from Louis, swinging their hands. “It’ll be fun!”

“Ava, listen to the game plan,” Holly orders, and Louis smirks at the determination on her face. Holly has her arms crossed, pouting adorably. “We have to prepare.”

“I see you’ve got your lot in order.”

Louis smirks at Harry, gesturing to Holly. “That one’s mine.”

Harry laughs, dimple carving into her cheeks. “No shit.”

Harry’s eyes look like autumn leaves in this light, dappled green with hints of gold. Her hair’s down for once, curling and waving around her shoulders, fringe held back with numerous silver slides. Louis reaches up and touches one, feels the cool metal against her finger. “You know these are going to come straight out, right?”

“I know.” Harry doesn’t look majorly bothered. She’s watching Louis intently, like she’s in the only thing that matters. “Team challenge today.”

“Uh huh.” Louis steps forward, tilting her head up to meet Harry’s eyes. “Ready to get your arse handed to you?”

“Depends who’s handling it,” Harry smirks, and Louis smacks her on the shoulder. “Oi, knock it off. No, I have an offer for you.”

“I’m listening.” Louis’ definitely listening when Harry’s playing with candyfloss coloured lips, pulling them gently with her longer fingers. Christ.

“You win - which won’t happen - and you get to do whatever you like to me.” Harry looks up at her through her lashes, lips curving into a smirk. “I win, you get to do whatever I like to me.”

Louis blinks at her. “That doesn’t really make sense? And isn’t it counter productive, I mean - “

“Louis,” Harry whines, and Louis bursts into laughter. “I was trying to be sexy, come on.”

“You’re not doing very well.” Louis smiles at Harry’s pout, ruffling her hair patronisingly. “Oh, baby. It’s okay. Performance issues, you know, happens to all of us.”

“I hate you,” Harry says flatly, and Louis doesn’t even try to hold back her laughter.

She’s feel strange, floating and light, like there’s a thousand birds singing in her chest. She hooks a finger in Harry’s belt loop, tugging her forward. “Okay, tell you what. You win, and I’ll tie you up with one of those pretty silk scarves, and eat you out until you scream, okay?”

Louis didn’t even know that was something she wanted, but when Harry’s eyes glaze over, Louis realises she very much does. She swallows, letting Harry go. “Man up, Styles.”

“Woman up,” Harry corrects distantly. She looking at Louis like she wants to pin her to a wall. “Don’t perpetuate internalised misogyny.”

Louis wants to kiss her so badly.

Instead, she settles for slapping Harry on the arse, then wandering off to motivate her team. Because Louis is all about team spirit. Or something like that.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis’ team wins, because Louis is a badass motherfucker who rolls over for no-one. Also, because Holly is a mini-dictator in the making, and because James has apparently watched too much Dare Devil.

Harry looks pretty despondent when she loses, which is quite funny. Louis slips up to her and whispers, “I’ll do it anyway, you fool,” and Harry visibly brightens.

Liam catches them chatting, and eyes them suspiciously. “Do what?”

“Your mum,” Louis says bluntly, and Harry laughs so hard she almost falls over.

The tension between them is palpable on the walk back to the cabin, coiling and coiling like a spring. All Louis can think about is spreading Harry out her bed, mapping her skin with her tongue, watching her pretty eyes flutter closed as she comes. Harry doesn’t look much more focused, breathing quickly. They meet eyes and the shock of it cracks through her like a whip. Louis drags her gaze away, tries to ignore the throbbing between her legs.

Louis barely has time to sit on the bed before Harry’s on her. She crashes their mouth together, kissing Louis hard. Louis curves her hands around Harry’s thigh, smoothing her fingers over the soft skin. Harry keens into her mouth, and Louis can’t breathe, as if Harry’s stealing all the air and cupping it in her hands.

“Wait,” Louis mumbles after a bit, pushing Harry away. “Wait a sec, Styles.”

Harry whines, lips slick and ruby red. Her hair is falling around her face, mussed from Louis’ hands. She shifts in Louis’ lip, a warm weight Louis’ clit is acutely aware of. “What? I want to get off, Louis, it’s not difficult.”

Grumpy sex Harry is possibly her favourite. “Yeah, I got that. But do you still - are you sure - “

Harry’s eyes widen in understanding. “Is that about the tying up thing? You don’t have to do it.”

Louis squirms. “No, I want to. Just - do you?”

Harry frowns, and then her lips part. Louis begins to sweat nervously, but then Harry’s kissing her again, arms thrown around her neck. Louis kisses back enthusiastically, if a little confused. Harry’s panting when she pulls back, eyes gleaming.

“Yeah, I want you to do it. I do, Lou, okay?” Harry promises, and Louis swallows.”I like - I just like the idea of you being able to do whatever you want to me.”

“Okay.” Louis is so turned on it’s ridiculous, but she forces herself to concentrate. “Have you done this before?”

Harry flushes, but nods. “Yeah, me and - my ex. We used to do it. Have you?”

Louis ignores the flare of jealousy in her stomach. “No, but - I want to.”

And she does, she realises, wants to tie Harry and tease her until she’s squirming. It’s not like she hasn’t had sex with a girl before, but she’s never done anything like this. “I really do want to, just - help me out, okay?”

Harry kisses her forehead, sending ripples of fondness through Louis. “Course. We can go slow as you want.”

“Do we need a word? Like, if you want me to stop - you can say something - “

“Pineapple,” Harry says promptly, and Louis laughs. It eases things between them, the tension between them sliding into excitement. “I can say pineapple. Then you stop, yeah?”

“I swear,” Louis says fiercely, and Harry kisses her again. Louis rubs her hands up Harry’s legs, sliding under Harry’s shorts. She moves her fingers to the side, until she can feel how damp Harry’s underwear is. She slowly presses down on Harry’s clit through the fabric, and Harry moans.

“Better get these off,” Louis whispers, sliding the underwear to one side. She sinks one finger into Harry, shaking at the feel of her, hot and slick and tight. She slowly crooks one finger, and Harry inhales shakily.

“You first,” Harry grins, mouth pressed to Louis’ neck. Louis grins back, slowly stripping off her shirt and shorts.

Harry slides off her lap to undress, fluttering her eyelashes at Louis over her shoulder. Louis sits back and watches Harry slowly reveal more flawless skin, then cracks up when Harry trips over her shorts.

“Shut up!” Harry fumes, kicking them away. “I was trying to do a strip tease.”

“Impressive,” Louis teases, but her breath catches her in throat when Harry’s left in just her underwear. Harry smirks as if she knows what Louis is thinking, settling in her lap again.

Harry kisses her, slow and calm this time, like they have all the time in the world. She slowly undoes Louis’ bra, and Louis laughs against her mouth. “Smooth.”

“Fuck off,” Harry whispers, then reaches down to cup Louis’ breasts. Louis inhales swiftly, closing her eyes as Harry runs a thumb around one nipple.

Harry gently pushes her down on the bed. She’s leaning above her, and Louis’ stomach feels squirmy at how much taller Harry is. Harry lets out a hot breath against her breast, making Louis shiver, then tugs one nipple into her mouth.

“Harry,” Louis whines, gasping as Harry runs gently tugs on the stiff bud with her teeth, her other hand making slowly circles down her stomach. One finger flutters over her clit, just as Harry pinches the other nipple, the shock of it sending heat rocketing between her legs.

Louis kicks off her underwear, laughing when it flops off the bed sadly. The laugh dies on her lips when she realises she’s completely naked now. It’s not like Harry hasn’t seen her naked before, but it’s - different, like this.

She feels hot and squirmy, and she flushes unhappily. “Um, I’ve shaved like, down there, I know that - “

“Lou.” Harry’s frowning now, so Louis unconsciously tries to smooth the wrinkles away with her thumb. “Lou, you’re gorgeous, okay? You’re like - you’re fucking stunning, you have nothing to apologise for.”

Louis swallows. She feels overwhelmed suddenly, duvet soft against her back, Harry’s hot above her, the last rays of sun spilling through the cap in the curtains. “And I have some stretch marks, some people get them - “

“I hate my hips,” Harry blurts. She wiggles above, eyes wide and honest. “They’ve still got podgy baby fat on them. And I’m so skinny that I just look stupid in jeans. And my tits are non-existent.”

Louis’ taken aback. Every word hits her like a sledgehammer, and she grabs Harry’s hips on instinct. “Haz, you have to know you’re stunning, right? You are crazily beautiful, I don’t - “

She licks her lips, mouth dry. She has no idea when she fell so hard for this girl. “You bum looks amazing in jeans, and your hips - well, I like them. They’re pretty good as hips go. Everyone has parts they don’t like about themselves. It’s normal, but it doesn’t make you any less stunning. And it shouldn’t even be about that, it’s about - about how you feel about people.”

Her chest feels full, brimming with golden emotion, and when Harry kisses her she thinks maybe Harry feels it too. She pulls back, their noses almost touching. “And how do you feel about me?” Harry asks, and the question hangs in the air, suspended on a single thread.

“I like you a lot,” Louis blurts, and the string snaps into a million pieces.

Harry’s kisses her likes she’s drowning and Louis is an entire lake. Louis feels dizzy, overwhelmed, and she holds onto Harry fiercely. Suddenly, all she wants to do is tie Harry up, tie her up and worship her everywhere, run her mouth over every part of her, until she realises how precious she is.

“One of your scarves, yeah?” Louis whines, and Harry’s nods, breathing ragged.

She climbs off Louis, swinging her legs over the bed. She pauses for a moment, as if she needs a breather. Louis slowly strokes her bare thigh, then Harry heads for her own set of drawers. She pulls out two headscarves, soft and silky when Louis runs them through her fingers.

Harry lies back slowly and Louis can’t breathe. All she can see is the pale arch of Harry’s neck, the jut of her wrists as she lifts her hands up. Louis takes a deep, calm breath, slowly looping the material around Harry’s wrist.

“How do I tie them?” she murmurs. Her heart’s pounding at the sight of light material, stark against Harry’s creamy skin. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Loose enough you can fit two fingers through,” Harry pants, and Louis jolts when she looks at her. Harry’s writhing already, pupils blown and legs wide open. Louis carries on slowly, adding a little more room than necessary, not wanting to hurt her.

“It’s silk,” Harry breathes. Louis leans over her, repeating the action with the same precision. “It won’t hurt me.”

“Tell me,” Louis repeats, not sure what to do with her hands now. She slowly runs them down Harry’s body, her body reacting to Louis’ hands like a guitar string being plucked. “Tell me if it hurts, or you want to stop. Or kick me in the back, or something.”

“I will,” Harry promises, and her voice is higher than usual, raspier.

Fuck. Having Harry like this, laid out like this. It makes Louis feel powerful, heady but more than that it makes her feel desperate. Desperate to make Harry come apart beneath her, have her shake under her hands.

She kisses down Harry’s navel, tasting the salt of her skin. Every action feels amplified, resonating to the soundtrack of Harry’s heart. Louis makes her way down to her hips, running her teeth over the bone there. She sinks her teeth, licking over it and making the blood rise to the surface, teeth and spit and slick.

Harry keens at that, panting as she pulls against the restraints. “Shit, I’m going to bruise - “

“Yeah, you are,” Louis agrees, and presses her thumb right into the blooming purple mark. It’s like a brand against Harry’s skin, and Louis decides to add one to her thigh, too.

Harry’s writhing at this point, moaning as Louis sucks a bruise there. “Louis, oh my god - “

“You’re still okay?” Louis mumbles, but she’s between Harry’s legs, so she repeats it. “Haz, this is okay, yeah?”

When she looks up, Harry’s lip are raw from where she’s been biting them. Her eyes are glassy, and she nods her head. “God, Louis, yes. Be a bit better if you got your mouth on me, but yeah.”

Louis rolls her eyes, drops a kiss on Harry’s lips, and wiggles back down. Harry’s so fucking wet, and Louis pauses for a moment, stuck on perfect pink she is, pink and slick and completely desperate.

She leans in, and ever so slowly licks a stripe up Harry’s slit. Harry shudders above, and Louis can taste her on her tongue, salty and sweet and something else completely.

Harry squirming above her as she pushes her tongue into her entrance, whining and mewling loudly. Harry bucks her hips desperately, trying to fuck down on Louis’ mouth. Louis drags her tongue up, pressing it hard against Harry’s clit. She moans against her, hoping Harry can feel the vibrations.

“Fuck, Louis.” Definitely felt them, then. It turns Louis on, being able to make Harry feel like this, and her pussy feels raw and throbbing. “I need you, please.”

Her hands bracket Harry’s hips as she eats out her out. Louis’ desperate to make Harry fall apart, so she doesn’t hold back now. She works over Harry’s clit, keeping it just light enough. At the same time she slides two fingers inside her, crooking her fingers, moving them in and out.

Harry’s really wet now, but Louis doesn’t care, part her folds with her tongue and tracing around the lips. She pulls her fingers out, replacing it with her mouth and fucking Harry as best she can. It’s the rough pad of Louis’ thumb on her clit that sounds Harry over the edge, coming with a whine that goes straight through Louis.

Louis’ desperate to coax her through the aftershocks, but she pulls back, not wanting to overwhelm Harry. Harry’s mouth is open, skin shiny with sweat, and her thighs are absolutely covered.

Louis is very, very gay.

Louis swallows hard, then pinches herself. She leans back on her knees, one hand resting on Harry’s hip. “Harry, are you okay? Was it too much?”

Harry cracks one eye open, chest heaving. “Louis, that was amazing.”

Louis beams, leaning down to kiss Harry softly. She reaches up to untie the scarves, careful not to rip them. The material is as sleek as ever, but it warm from Harry’s skin, and it makes Louis shiver. She unties the other one, then softly places a kiss to each wrist. “You sure?”

Harry slowly relaxes her arms, linking their fingers. Every face is so soft, every plane open. “Yeah. Was that - okay for you?”

Louis licks her lips pointedly, still wet with Harry’s slick. Harry traces the movement with narrowed eyes, and Louis shudders. “It was - exciting.”

Harry bites her lip, then shrugs her shoulders. “I guess you could say it was _sexciting_.”

Louis stares at her, then collapses on top of her. Harry giggles, shoving at her dead weight. “Ugh, get off, you’re heavy. Lewis, stop.”

“I can’t believe you said that,” Louis mumbles into Harry’s collarbone, ignoring Harry’s wiggling. She spreads her arms out like a starfish, pinning Harry down. “I just had sex with an utter idiot, oh my god.”

“I took the opportunity,” Harry says proudly, then bites Louis’ arm. Louis smacks her in the head in the pillow, which results into a two minute pillow fight, until Harry bumps against her clit and Louis gasps.

Harry just smirks, and Louis squirms at the way Harry’s fingers creep up her thigh. “That was terrible,” Louis announces, and her voice trembles. “But I guess you can finger me.”

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Harry drawls, and then neither of them say much else.

 

 

-

 

 

Louis kicks Harry out of bed, making her go grab a flannel from the bathroom. Harry moans about it but she does it, coming back with a wet flannel and making Louis shriek when the droplets slide down her leg.

She doesn’t kick her out again, Harry curling into her side instead. She’s in one of Louis’ old shirts, Louis’ feet tucked behind her calves. Louis plays with her hair softly, tugging on the curls and stroking the skin behind her ear.

“That was so good,” Harry mumbles, and Louis feels happiness shine happily in her bloodstream, tiny golden flecks that burst into stars. “Like, we have really good sex.”

“Dream team,” Louis whispers, and Harry giggles. She shifts a little, linking their hands together. Harry’s so pretty with afterglow, pink and perfect and content. “Do you get up to this with all your roommates?”

Harry snorts. “Do you?”

Louis opens her mouth, then flushes guilty. “Um, me and Zayn may have messed around once or twice.”

Harry smirks. “That’s hot.” Louis jabs her in the side, Harry squealing in protest. “What! It is!”

“What about you and Niall?” Louis asks, wrinkling her nose.

“Nah, Niall’s not my type.” Harry pauses, scrunching her face up. “I don’t know if I’m hers, actually. Niall’s into guys I think, but then again I’m not sure she’s too bothered who she bump and grinds with.”

“I reckon she’s got something for Bressie,” Louis says seriously. She can almost see it. If she wasn’t a raging lesbian, Bressie would probably turn her head. “It’s cause they’re both Irish.”

“Mutual interests,” Harry suggests, so Louis fistbumps her. Harry curls further into her, Louis’ puts her arms around her, pulling her in closer. “Come from the same country and that.”

“Don’t tell Taylor, they’ll be her newest target,” Louis mumbles. Harry snuffles softly into her neck, her soft laugh fanning over Louis’ skin. “I saw her eyeing up Zayn and Liam the other day.”

“She wants to be a singer. She told me earlier, she writes songs and stuff.”

“Oh.” Louis considers this. “She’d probably be quite good as a pop star. You’ve got competition, Styles.”

“We can do a duet,” Harry yawns. Louis wiggles her feet, pressing them closer to Harry’s calves. “Nah, actually she’d leave me for Ed. Those two are tight.”

I just bet she is, Louis thinks, but exercises a shit tonne of restraint and doesn’t vocalise that particular thought. Instead she just hums quietly, letting her eyes slide closed.

Harry’s quiet for a few moments, then her soft voice breaks through the darkness. “How did you know you liked girls?”

Louis feels like she’s swallowed glass, rough and harsh in her chest, even after all these years. “Kissed a girl at a party. She told me it was disgusting. I didn’t share that opinion.”

She can still remember Chloe’s sticky lipgloss, the way her nails had dug into her side. Louis had walked away with a smudged mouth and her self confidence in shreds. She shakes a little at the memory, relaxing when Harry curves a hand over her hip. “What about you?”

“Fell for my best friend.” Harry shrugs, like she’s trying to lift some weight from her shoulders. “Nick was - her and me - we didn’t work out in the end. But yeah, I knew I wasn’t just interested in boys.”

Louis sniffs. “Were people dicks about it?”

“People were dicks about it,” Harry confirms, and there’s a whole novel in those five words if you cared to look. As it is, Louis just pulls her closer, burrowing her face in Harry’s curls. Harry kisses her neck softly and Louis falls asleep to the sound of Harry’s heartbeat.


	6. Chapter 6

They spend most of Saturday snoozing, having sex, and watching Pretty Little Liars on Louis’ laptop. Harry’s actually writes fucking notes - in detail about her A speculations - then pouts when she finds out it’s Ian.

“I had planned it all out,” Harry moans, waving her list in Louis’ face. “Look, I wrote down all the clues.”

“Who the fuck takes notes?” Louis snaps, elbowing Harry in the ribs. They’re sitting next to each other, sides pressed together. Harry’s in tiny shorts and a vest, with no bra at all underneath. It’s distracting, to say the least. “You’re such a fucking weirdo, just watch the programme. I’m going to burn this”

“No, I want to really enjoy it,” Harry scowls, ripping her list out of Louis’ hands. “I don’t want to miss any of the important parts.”

“That’s what the rewind button is for,” Louis argues, trying to grab it back. Harry is so strange sometimes. “It’s like the bloody butterfly incident all over again - “

“Thorax,” Harry hisses, thumping her hand on the bed. “One has a bigger thorax, it’s a crucial distinction - “

“Literally, shut the fuck up!” Louis bites out, jabbing her in the stomach. “You are so fucking pedantic.”

“And you’re a twat!” Harry yells, flailing her arms around. “You don’t even know how to whisk!”

“Well, I didn’t use to be a baker, did I?” Louis shrieks, smacking Harry with a pillow.

Harry opens like she’s going to retort, then pauses. “Um. This is the most domestic argument I’ve ever had.”

Louis blinks. “Do you want to watch season two?.”

Louis doesn’t want to watch season two. Louis binge watched it after a bet with Liam about the amount of TV someone could systematically watch in a day. Louis kind of wants to have sex again, but she can’t say this without looking weak and controlled by her vagina. She has an image to uphold, so she just stares at Harry for a bit.

Harry, the little twat, doesn’t seem to interpret her sex eyes properly. She just perks up and presses play on the screen. “Awesome, I already have three theories and a subplot I’m working on.”

“You’re weird,” Louis repeats, but she lets Harry snuggle into her. Harry rest her head on Louis’ shoulder, curls tickling her skin. Louis slides an arm around her, smiling as Harry hums contentedly.

Louis’ distracted the moment Harry presses play. Her heart’s thumping in her chest, but she knows they need to talk about it. They can’t keep having sex and cuddling, and not - talk about what they are.

Because Louis would really like to be Harry’s girlfriend. Something that really should have short circuited her system, but in reality her heart just sort of went ‘I can see that,’ and gave in with not much resistance.

Louis really likes Harry, but she doesn’t know how to tell her that. Harry’s got to reciprocate a bit, considering how enthusiastic she is during sex, plus the mega cuddling after, but the words get stuck in her throat each time she opens her mouth.

“Harry,” she begins finally, clearing her throat. Harry nods in acknowledgement, but then there’s a sound Louis never wanted to hear again.

“Wait a sec, got to answer my phone,” Harry announces, then smirks at Louis’ outraged face. “Yes, I have dolphin noises as my ringtone. This is track three actually - “

“Bitch,” Louis enunciates clearly, and Harry laughs and presses answer.

“Hello?”

Louis doesn’t attention at first, playing with a thread on her duvet. It’s when Harry’s voice drops, sliding from cheerful to panicked, that her head snaps up.

“What do you mean? Is he okay?” Harry’s back is one tense line as she swings her legs over the side of the bed. Her knuckles have gone white from how hard she’s clutching the phone.

Louis draws her knees to her chest, resting her chin on them. Something’s definitely not right as Harry paces the room. Harry drags a hand through her hair, winces as it gets caught on some tangles. “Do you want me to come back? No, Gems - no. Tell mum I can’t hear her properly. Well, yeah, but Gem that doesn’t - “

Harry turns her back then, still babbling. Louis waits until she hears the click of the end button, Harry murmuring an, “I love you,” just before she hangs up.

“Are you okay?” Louis asks softly. Harry’s standing in the middle of the room, phone dangling from one hand.

“I’m fine,” she sniffs, then starts crying.

Louis has precisely zero idea what to do with a crying Harry, but Harry solves that problem by throwing herself into Louis’ lap. Louis’ arm curl around her automatically, Harry pressing her face into Louis’ shirt.

“Hey,” Louis murmurs, heart pounding. “Harry, look at me. Are you okay? Is Gemma okay?”

Harry looks up and there are pink splotches on her cheeks, eyelashes thick with tears. Louis can feel her hands trembling, so she fists them in the back of Harry’s shirt. “It’s my grandad, he - he has to go to hospital.”

Louis has never felt so fucking useless in her life, like a puppet whose strings won’t move. “They think he had a mini heart attack, he’s been rushed in now. They’re going to scans and stuff today, Lou, what if he dies - “

Harry is sobbing now, the sound of it hurting Louis’ ears. Louis just pulls her closer, kissing Harry’s hair again and again until the other girl calms down. “Harry, you can’t think like that - you don’t. You don’t know, okay? So you just have to wait.”

And shittest advice of the year award goes to Louis Tomlinson. She clears her throat. “Do you want to go home? I can go get Simon. Or get Liam to, if you don’t want to be by yourself. She’ll be pissed we interrupted her sex marathon, but - “

Harry giggles at that, which makes Louis feel about seventy feet tall. It’s more of a snuffle, to be fair, but Louis will take it. “I don’t want to go,” Harry says finally, voice choked and thick with tears. “I can’t let the kids down. I - I just want to - have a shower.”

Louis blinks. “Have a shower?”

“It’ll calm down, make me feel normal,” Harry mumbles, wringing her hands, and well. What’s Louis going to say to that?

She leads Harry to the bathroom by her hand. She flicks on the shower, testing the water to check it’s the perfect temperature. When she turns around Harry is still dressed, staring morosely at the floor.

“Come here,” Louis murmurs, heart cracking just a little bit. She slides Harry’s shirt over her head, then holds her steady when she kicks off her shorts.

Harry shivers at the first touch of hot water, her whole body shaking. Louis tugs her wrist, pulling her forward. Harry blinks at her, and Louis has never seen her eyes so dull. It makes her chest pound, because Harry’s eyes are never dull. They’re fuming, or enchanted, or dark, dark, dark when they’re looking at Louis. They’re never dull.

Harry shuffles tiredly. “I don’t want to do - that stuff today, Lou.”

Louis actually laughs at that. “No, you idiot. I was going to wash your hair.”

Harry blinks, and for a second a small mile dashes across her face. “Oh. Thanks.”

Louis just uncaps the shampoo bottle, something pink and fruity from Lush. She washes Harry’s hair carefully, Harry practically purring at the touch. “Bend your head forward,” Louis mutters, cupping her hand over Harry’s eyes, so she won’t get any shampoo in them, and Harry obeys immediately, like she’s on autopilot.

Harry’s quiet when they step out. She’s like a child, wrapped in a pink, fluffy towel, hair damp and dripping down her back. Louis steps away to grab a towel for her hair, and Harry says in a clear voice, “He was the first person I told I was gay,” and then starts crying again.

Louis just hugs her extra hard, trying to hold back her own tears. She bundles Harry up in some clothes and leads her to the other room. Harry curls up on the bed with her head in Louis’ lap, and Louis’ strokes her hair until Harry falls asleep.

 

 

-

 

It’s tense that night. Harry gets a call her grandad is going in for scans, and cries. Niall comes over after a call from Gemma, and Harry cries. Harry cries so much Louis runs out of tissue, and has to persuade Zayn to bring some more from their cabin.

Niall snuggles into Harry like two kittens. She’s surprisingly good at calming Harry down, stroking her hair and speaking to her in a calm voice. Louis hasn’t really seen a lot of their friendship, but it’s obvious now, the bone deep affection they have for each other.

“You’ll be fine, Haz,” Niall says simply, and Harry crumples into her like a tower of cards.

“Thanks, Ni,” Harry whispers, and by the time she leaves Harry has most of the colour back in her face.

Louis walks her to the door, both of them standing on the porch. It’s late, the moon glowing in the sky. Louis can hear crickets. They both stand there, breath curling into little clouds.

“You break her heart,” Niall says finally, “I’ll skin you, okay?”

Louis just nods, shirt wet from Harry’s tears. Niall nods too, lifting her chin, then smacks her on the back. “Great. See you later, Tommo.”

Louis watches her go and feels like laughing for some reason.

 

 

-

 ****  


 

Harry’s grandad is fine in the end. She gets the call early Sunday morning, scrabbling out of Louis’ arms to answer it. Louis can just make out Gemma’s muffled voice, but she’s more interested in the way Harry’s face lights up, like a flower opening its petals for the sun.

She’s breathless when she comes off the floor, absolutely beaming. “It’s okay! Well, not okay, he has to take a tonne of antibiotics, plus any physical activity is out for a bit. And his has to stay in hospital for another week or something, but he’s okay!”

Louis feels a tonne of weight slide off her shoulders, hugging Harry back when she throws her arms around her. “I’m so happy, Haz! We should get Niall over here, tell her. And we could get the kids to make him a card, maybe Babs could make a cake. Though, I don’t know how we’d send that.”

“Louis,” Harry breathes, eyes gleaming. “Louis, thank you so much. I just - thank you.”

“I just felt useless,” Louis blurts, desperate to get rid of the twisted feeling in her stomach. “Cramps I can do. Heat pads and snuggling I can do, but your grandad. I couldn’t - I felt like a fucking spare part.”

“You weren’t,” Harry swears, voice low. “You weren’t.” Louis squirms under Harry’s reverent gaze. Harry’s staring at her like she holds the world in her hands, or some crap, and Louis doesn’t know how to deal with that.

Actually, a little part of her brain argues, actually she does.

Louis takes a deep breath. “This is probably grossly inappropriate, but um. Harry - “

“Don’t tell me I’m a wizard,” Harry says solemnly, then giggles when Louis tries to kick her.

“Noo,” Louis drawls, rolling her eyes. She fancies an idiot. “No, just - would you. Do you - do you want to go out with me?”

She cringes at how dumb that sounds, like they’re back in Year 5 and sharing a tube of love hearts is the highest order of affection. Panic flashes through her, burning in her gut as Harry frowns.

“Louis - “

“You don’t have to,” Louis babbles, scooching back. “We can just go back to having sex and cuddling, girlfriends doesn’t have to be an option - “

“Louis, I kind of thought we already were,” Harry blurts.

Louis blinks at her. Harry blinks back.

“Harry Styles.” Louis stares at her, slowly raising her voice. “Harry Styles, have you been stealth dating me.”

Harry grins cheekily. “Maybe. I just kind of thought after we had sex that first time, then I kissed you the day after. And cuddle a lot. And we had a big lesbian heart to heart, like I don’t know how you didn’t know, Louis - “

Louis smacks her in the face with a pillow. It’s really the only appropriate reaction, as is the resulting ten minute pillow fight. Which Louis wins, naturally.

“So you mean to tell me,” Louis heaves, brushing her hair away from her face. She’s pinning Harry down, one pillow held to her throat like a mock knife. Harry’s smirking up at her, both their chests heaving. “You were sneak dating me on the sly? And you didn’t tell me?”

Harry shrugs, the how she manages that lying down, Louis has no idea. “Yep.”

Louis fights to control her smile, happiness bursting in her chest. “Well. I guess that’s okay.

Harry rolls her eyes. “Kiss me, you fool.”

“Don’t be cliche,” Louis snaps, but she does it anyway. It really shouldn’t be that simple, Louis thinks, but when Harry grabs her arse and rolls them over, she finds she doesn’t really care.

 ****  


 

-

 ****  


 

It really shouldn’t be that easy, but it.. kinda is? They still have crazily good sex. Harry still pins her against the wall and kisses her each morning, hands in her hair and a leg between her thigh. Louis still calls her out on all her hippie bullshit, and Harry still screams at her when she threatens to shred her dolphin cd.

Seriously, that shit is going in the trash, one way or the other.

Zayn doesn’t even bat an eyelid when they turn up to breakfast holding hands. It may have something to do with the whispered conversation her and Niall have before they sit down. Liam, bless her, just gives them a big thumbs up.

“Lou, you should really eat more healthily.” Harry nudges her bowl towards her, full of assorted fruit. “Have some pineapple.”

“Ew, no.” Louis nudges the bowl back, sticking her tongue out at Harry’s irritated frown. “That is not a breakfast.”

“It is,” Harry says sulkily, so Louis pokes her dimples until she starts laughing instead. Louis grins, sliding her hand into Harry’s under the table.

“Bacon, babe,” Louis teases, brandishing a piece in the air. Harry just rolls her eyes, squeezing Harry’s hand. “That’s why you’re so skinny.”

“You do have the best bum in this relationship,” Harry says thoughtfully, and Louis high fives her.

Across the table, Zayn makes a gagging noise. “You two are disgusting.”

“Um, says you,” Louis retorts, raising an eyebrow. “You and Liam are normally all over each other. Don’t be jealous because you’ve been upstaged.”

“Harry, how’s your grandad?” Liam asks, like the good little mediator she is. Louis winks at her and Liam grins, sliding an arm around Zayn’s shoulders.

“He’s better!” Harry chirps, sitting up and beaming at Liam. “He still has to take his medicine, but he should be out by the end of this week. Thank you, Liam.”

Liam smiles back, Zayn snuggling into her shoulder. “That’s okay, I hope he gets better soon.”

“I know he will,” Louis murmurs, and Harry shoots her a grateful glance.

“Thanks,” she whispers, and kisses Louis softly on the mouth.

Zayn lobs a salt packet at them. “Disgusting!”

 ****  
  


 

-

 

Ava catches them kissing, in one of the worst moments of her life.

In all fairness, it’s less kissing and more having a cheeky grope on a yoga mat. They were supposed to be planning sports week, but Louis somehow lost her hand in Harry’s bra, and here they were.

“What are you doing?”

Louis sits up so fast she elbows Harry in the sternum. Harry kicks her in the ribs in retaliation, which is totally unfair because she didn’t do it on purpose.

“Hey, Ava,” Louis says awkwardly, shuffling as far away as Harry as possible. Harry is not helping; her t shirt is crumpled and her lips are kiss bruised. “It’s late, sweetie. Why aren’t you at the campfire?”

“I saw you in the field.” Ava glances between her and Harry suspiciously. “So I came over. I thought you were napping.” Ava narrows her eyes. “Were you napping together?”

“Um, yeah,” Harry answers brightly, despite Louis glaring at her. “You’re Ava right? You drew the really pretty picture of the lake.”

Ava looks unimpressed. “It was the sea side.”

Louis snickers. That’s her girl. “God, Harry, it was the sea side.”

“Are you and Harry special friends?” Ava asks, and Louis chokes on her own spit. Harry is slowly turning purple. “That’s what my mum calls my sister and her friend Jake.”

“Um, yeah. Me and Harry are special friends,” Louis says slowly, watching as Ava frowns. “Um, is that okay?”

Ava shrugs. “I guess so. I still like Louis better.”

Harry snorts, slinging an arm around Louis’ waist. She leans in like she’s telling a secret. “I like Louis best too.”

Louis tries to ignore the fireworks going off in her chest. Ava looks satisfied with that answer, nodding her head. “I guess that’s okay then,” she says decisively. “I’m going to go back to the camp fire now.”

“Let me walk you back,” Louis orders, standing up. She glances at Harry. “Be back in a moment, sweetheart.”

“Is Harry your girlfriend?” Ava asks, swinging their arms together. “She’s pretty.”

“Yes, and she is,” Louis smiles, beaming at the younger girl. Ava squeezes her hand, blinking innocent blue eyes. “You don’t mind - you don’t mind Harry’s a girl?”

“No,” Ava shrugs, and Louis has so much hope for this generation, she really does. “Girls are nicer than boys. Holly taught me how to skip and how to swim, but James just pushed me in the mud.”

“Fair enough,” Louis laughs, ruffling her hair. “Go back to the campfire, okay?”

Ava skips off, waving and Louis wanders back. Harry’s lying on her back on that mat, so Louis flops down on her stomach. She ignores Harry’s wheezing, pinching her hip. “Ava approves of you.”

“Good to know,” Harry laughs, chest vibrating with it. Louis curls up on herself, resting her head on Harry’s sternum, one arm splayed over her waist. “For a tiny girl she is very scary.”

“Wait until you meet my sisters,” Louis mutters, tilting her head so Harry can stroke her hair easier. “That’s a whole different ball game.”

Harry tugs on a knot in her hair. “So I get to meet them?”

Sometimes Louis feels as though she’s missed the step on the stairs, that swooping feel in her stomach until she hits solid ground. “If you want to.”

“I do,” Harry whispers, and Louis tucks her feet behind Harry’s calves. “Ava is so cute, I can’t wait to have kids.”

“Yeah?” Louis grins, lifting her head to grin at Harry. “You want a whole football team, huh?"

Harry sighs dreamily. “Can you imagine it? Loads and loads of babies.”

Louis laughs, smacking her in the stomach. “Are you serious?”

Harry looks her dead in the eye. “Louis, I think I need you to knock me up.”

“You know that’s not physically possible - Harry!” Louis frowns at Harry from where Harry’s flipped them over.

“Babies,” Harry grins, and Louis’ still laughing when she kisses her.

 ****  
  


-

Sports week is the best, because Louis just bitches at Harry for practising yoga, then has mind blowingly good hate sex in the showers after. Well, not hate sex, because they like each other now, but like. Antagonistic sex.

“You’re such a dick,” Harry pants, sliding down the wall of the shower. Louis just wipes her mouth with her hand, grinning. She can still taste Harry in her mouth and she’s not exactly complaining.

“You weren’t saying that five seconds ago,” she taunts, revelling in the way Harry’s eyes flash. “It was more of a ‘oh, Louis, yes Louis, fuck, Louis - “

“Fuck off,” Harry snaps, and Louis just laughs. “Yoga is a real sport, I swear down, Louis.” **  
**

“So is football,” Louis argues, “it’s not a ‘mindless reinforcement of aggression with men.’ And  I know you support Man U so you’re bullshitting, mate.”

“Maybe,” Harry shrugs, giving Louis a hand up. Louis catches the towel Harry throws her, sneaking a cheeky glimpse of girlfriend’s body. Harry has a really good body.

Harry kisses her softly, one hand on her cheek and lips soft, before she lets her go to get dressed. Louis wanders over to her pile of clothes, thigh aching pleasantly. She is going to have some serious hickeys tomorrow.

“Lou, what are we doing after camp?”

“Crying about student loans,” Louis answers promptly, pulling her shirt over her head. “And going on X Factor. Well, you, not me. Probably get voted off if I bawled the whole time.”

She wiggles into her jeans, looking up once she’s buttoned them. Harry frowning. “No, I mean. Me and you. Us. Together as a couple.”

Oh. Louis hooks a finger in Harry’s belt loop, tugging her closer. Harry’s hands immediately come to rest on her hips, Louis’ looping around her neck. Louis kisses her softly, sweetly, hands cupping her face.

“You’re going to do gigs,” Louis whispers, Harry kissing her on the forehead. “And you’re going to come visit me at uni. And we’ll figure it out. Because I really like you, Harry.”

Harry smiles so wide her dimples pop. “Good. It’s mutual. But you forgot one thing.”

Louis raises an eyebrow, acutely aware of Harry’s hand sliding under her jeans. “Oh yeah?”

“The prize for team challenge this year is a day out at a theme park.” Harry slides her hands further under Louis’ jeans, snapping the elastic of her pants and smirking when Louis jumps. “So my team is going to obliterate yours, then I’m going to take you on a date.”

“Ten kids on a sweaty minibus. That’s not much of a date.” Louis slides her own hands under Harry’s shirt, Harry’s eyes fluttering when Louis skates over one nipple. Harry didn’t bother putting her bra back on. Predictable. “And when my team destroys yours, I’ll be taking you.”

“I guess we’ll just have to see,” Harry hums.

Louis nods. “Fine.” **  
**

Harry beams. “Fantastic.” **  
**

 

Most of their clothes end up back on the floor.

 ****  


-

 ****  


Liam’s team wins the day out to Alton Towers.

It positively has nothing to do with Harry and Louis showing up late with their shirts back to front.

- **  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ta da :) I am not majorly happy with the ending, but hopefully people liked that?

**Author's Note:**

> HUGE HUGE HUGE THANK YOU TO MY BETAS [bottomlinsons](http://bottomlinsons.tumblr.com/l) and [patroclourry](http://patroclourry.tumblr.com/) :D thank you so much :D
> 
> here's the [link to the fic](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/post/121112566752/that-good-girl-faith-and-a-tight-little-skirt) :D reblogs are life! Thank you so much [marta](http://yvesaintomlinson.tumblr.com//) for the amazing edit!! I love youuu! seriously it is the most gorgeous header ever I appreciate it SO MUCH :D
> 
> additionally here is my [tumblr!](http://ariadneodair.tumblr.com/) and here is my [girl direction blog!!](http://everyjawdrops.tumblr.com/)
> 
> huge general to people on tumblr, like star55, xstormellax, amemorymaze, addisonlou, yorkshrieking and asexualfitz to name a few :D this was written during a pretty tough time for me, so all your support was awesome :D
> 
> ALSO THANK YOU TO MAGGIE FOR HOSTING THE EXCHANGE!
> 
> comments make me happy :)))
> 
> UPDATE - xstormellax did some [GORGEOUS ART](http://xstormellax.tumblr.com/post/121773201320/she-slides-one-hand-up-harrys-body-cupping-one) for this fic, so please, please, please do reblog it and shower her with love! :D


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